


A Climb of Adventure

by FurorNocturna, JirsSnufminArchive



Series: Beanstalk [1]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Adventure, Artistic Liberty was taken on that, Fairy tale writing style, He gets better, How Do I Tag, Jack and the beanstalk au, Joxter is very sad and in a lot of pain for most of this, Joxter’s Forebodings work like a clairvoyant Spidey Sense, Little My is a gremlin, M/M, Moomin is an absolute sweetheart, Moomin is sick of Mrs Fillyjonk’s bs, Mumriks are cats, Sniff is a ding dong but he has a good heart, Snufkin and Joxter have paws and tails, Snufkin is a troll, Sporadic inconsistent updates, as is Snorkmaiden, forgot about that one my bad, he just wants to make everyone happy, im just messing around at this point, im so sorry, maybe mild fairytale violence and peril, meet cute, mild cursing on Joxter’s part, nothing too big but the warning is there now, or does he?, references to alcoholism, the Giant is mean, the melting of Snufkin’s hardened heart, these are all out of order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FurorNocturna/pseuds/FurorNocturna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JirsSnufminArchive/pseuds/JirsSnufminArchive
Summary: A Jack and the Beanstalk AUWhen Moominvalley suffers under an especially brutal summer of misfortune as foretold by the Joxter, young Moomin sets out to make things right.What awaits him is a daring adventure of excitement, danger, treasure, the unexpected, and maybe even a bit of love.





	1. The Beginning

Like many fairy tale stories, this one begins once upon a time.

Our story takes place in the endearing land of Moominvalley. A beautiful section of earth thriving with a multitude of colorful flora and fauna. From the flower-field meadows, to the lush forests, the rugged majesty of the Lonely Mountains, and the many rivers, lakes, and waterfalls that all found their way to the breathtaking shoreline of the ocean, many would call it a piece of paradise. For those who lived there, they thought exactly that of their home.

None more so than the Moomins. Who had the name first, be it the family of trolls or the valley itself remains a mystery, but few argued against that the Moomins were the heart of Moominvalley. The happy family of three who lived in a blue cylinder house by the riverside at the near center of the land.

There was Moominpappa, the patriarch and a moomin of many talents. A born adventurer, there was seemingly no end to his stories he now spent most of his days regaling to print in his memoirs. Still, whenever the song of adventure came, he answered the call and set off to have another chapter to add to his writings, his cane and dapper top hat in hand.

There was also Moominmamma, Moominpappa’s beloved and the family matriarch. Moominpappa may have been the one to build Moominhouse and the bridge on the riverside, but it was Moominmamma who made the house into a _home_. Her kindness and skill in the culinary arts unrivaled, she was bar none the greatest treasure Moominpappa ever found (not to mention the most beautiful, in his eyes).

Lastly, there was young Moomin, their only son. Named after his father, Moomin was a spirited and caring child in his own right, and what many would contest to having a heart as pure as the white of his fur. Every night, he wished on the stars to find his own adventures like his Pappa did at his age.

In fact, nearly all days of the year (not including hibernation months) Moomin would set out to explore the valley in search of adventures. He would often be accompanied by his three friends Sniff, Snorkmaiden and Little My.

Depending on the nature of the ‘adventure’ tended to determine who would join for the day if it appealed to their persuasions. Unless deemed ‘too boring’ for her tastes, Little My seemed to always tag along, but was especially enthusiastic about the promise of danger and monsters many times her tiny mymble size.

“The bigger they are, the greater my glory for being the one to take them down!” she’d boast, then snap her teeth to show off her infamous powerful bite.

Snorkmaiden wasn’t as keen on danger or any activity that was too ‘messy’ or ‘dirty’. She preferred the more casual adventures that were mostly just walks through the forests or collecting sea shells on the beach, but would be more willing to step outside her comfort zone if Moomin stayed close by to her. The rest of the times she declined, she would send them off with good luck wishes and occasionally request a souvenir from Moomin.

Sniff was much simpler creature. He was the most cowardly and easily frightened of their friend group. Anything that remotely put his nerves on edge (which was many, many things), he was the first to decline joining Moomin. However, his mind was quick to change with all worries forgotten if there was even a hint that treasure would be involved.

Many such ‘adventures’ happened throughout their youth. Alas, as fun as their small exploits were, Moomin longed for the “real deal” to experience like those his father spoke of in his stories.

By the time he was a teenager, Moomin would get his wish.

One day, the Moomins were greeted to several visitors at their doorstep. To Moominpappa’s surprise, they were all the familiar faces of his good friends from his youth: the brilliant-minded inventor, Samuel Hodgkins Fredrikson, his nephew and niece-in-law the Muddler and Fuzzy, who were Sniff’s parents, and the feline-like vagabond, Joxter.

While pleasantly surprised to see his old friends from his adventuring days again, Moominpappa was most perplexed as to why three of them were shouldering a very morose and inebriated Joxter at the front door of Moominhouse.

“Has been like this for the last month at least,” Fredrikson explained. “All he’s done is wail about a great loss and upcoming disaster, drinking until he passes out. Nothing will cheer him up.”

“Whatever has made him so upset?” Moominpappa asked, wrought with worry over the state of their friend.

“We have no idea. Every time we ask, he just bursts into tears and won’t stop crying until he falls asleep from it.” Muddler said with a shake of his head.

Indeed it was an exercise in futility to try and coax any answers from Joxter. Hearing his heartbreaking lamentations once after one attempt was enough to dissuade any more. It was highly worrying behavior from the normally carefree and laid-back mumrik. Whenever he wasn’t guzzling booze, he’d only repeat the same few words.

“The Forebodings! The Forebodings!” Joxter would slur and hiccup in a hysteric frenzy. “Something terrible is coming! Something horrible is coming this way! We must all go! Before it takes all you cherish like how what I cherished was stolen from me!!”

Joxter would go up to anyone and everyone spouting these words like a chant. Between the alcohol on his breath, his bloodshot blue eyes, and his worsened ragged appearance, he looked very much the part of a madman shouting nonsense. Thus, his words fell on deaf ears.

Seldom is the word of a drunkard taken seriously.

Even Moominpappa and his friends, who knew all about the Joxter’s unique and highly accurate clairvoyant talents for predicting ill omens, doubted his claims. For Joxter was also a known trickster in their circle and had gone to many such elaborate lengths to fool them all in the past for his own amusement. They didn’t know whether or not to believe him.

As spring came to an end, they all wished they had.

When summer arrived in Moominvalley that year, it was scorching and merciless. The season lay waste to the valley, running the rivers dry and killing off all its plant life. No rain or even a gust of wind granted any reprieve from the suffocating heat. With the crops reduced to dust and no sign of better weather to come to salvage anything for when the autumn harvest came, the denizens feared for their livelihood.

The Moominvalley inhabitants banded together to make the best of their situation for their own survival. Fredrikson and the Snork, Snorkmaiden’s inventive older brother, joined forces to put their minds together to create a water purification and irrigation system that would transport water from the sea to the valley but also purify it of salts and other contaminants. They found some success in providing a source of accessible drinking water for everyone, but had yet to regrow the plant life snuffed out by the sun.

Despite the community camaraderie, many shunned and scapegoated the Joxter for the misfortune. Ms Fillyjonk was especially vocal and scathing about it, no matter how many times Moominpappa chased her off his property every time she came by to complain. Joxter himself never seemed to be fully lucid to be bothered either way, continuing to sleep, drink and murmur sad nothings about bad Forebodings.

After a month with no change in the drought and famine, young Moomin decided to do something about it.

This is the tale of his quest and how he found the first greatest adventure of his lifetime.


	2. The Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer than I would’ve liked. Special shout out to @thefearisoneself for aiding me through the bumps in the road!

“And you’re certain you have everything you need, dear?” Moominmamma asked again.

Moomin gave a small sigh as he put on his backpack. Today was the day he set out on his quest. His parents insisted on helping him pack for his journey and seeing him off when he left before sunrise.

“Yes, Mama. You’ve already checked three times.” Moomin replied. “I’ve got the snacks and lunch you packed me, the good luck charms, my flashlight, a spare blanket, and the basket of things to offer her in a trade.”

“You can never be too thorough, my boy.” Moominpappa said. “Check again to be sure you haven’t forgotten anything.”

Moomin playfully rolled his eyes, but opened the basket to give another rundown of the contents. “I’ve got a few jars of jam, Mama’s best thread and needles, our best herbs, a folder of copies of the first chapters of your memoirs–”

“ _Very_ important and highly valuable for a trade, if I do say so myself.” Moominpappa said, puffing out his chest.

“Of course, Papa. And…you’re both _really_ certain you want to offer your wedding rings?” Moomin asked, sadness and uncertainty lacing his tone as he voiced the question.

“Yes, dear. They’re very special to us, but if you believe the Witch can help Moominvalley, then we want you to have the best chances of success you can.” Moominmamma soothed.

Moomin gave a weak smile. “If you’re sure, then.”

Moominmamma then stepped forward to give her son one last hug. “Please be careful, Moomin. And come home safe!”

Moomin returned it happily. “I will, Mama. Be back soon, Papa!”

With a final wave goodbye, Moomin made his way to the Forest of Witches.

As it was so aptly named, the Forest of Witches was historically known for housing magic users since the valley was created. In the present time, only one witch was known to still live there. She was a reclusive sort, not keen on visitors nor were many keen on intruding, but rumored to be as powerful just as she was temperamental. Which was formidably so.

The Forest of Witches itself had also always been an area of Moominvalley that was widely feared for these reasons. The way the canopy of the willow, rowan, yew and elder trees blocked out all but a few stray beams of sunshine, how moss grew everywhere on the ground and tree roots, making it difficult to keep steady footing. For one could never be sure if where you trip would send you tumbling into a brush of briars, the sinking swamp puddles, or something worse. There weren’t many who ever returned to tell the tale, according to rumors. In the wake of the sun’s recent wrath, the dead and dying trees made this infamous forest look absolutely haunting.

Moomin would not be deterred, however. He had a quest to complete, and no journey was an adventure if it was easy or had no obstacles!

Moomin made the trek through the scary Forest of Witches. Being on his own, everything in the forest seemed even scarier. Still, he refused to let anything stop him. Moominvalley was depending on him!

Past the briar patches and over the river, Moomin spotted a homey little cottage at the base of a large elder tree. Moomin beamed at the sight of smoke bustling from the chimney. This had to be where the Witch lived!

Moomin made his way to the doorstep and lifted his hand to knock on the door. Before his fist could even connect with the wood once, he was petrified! Not just with fear as a result, but actually frozen in place like a statue. He couldn’t move a single muscle!

Just then, the door flung itself open and Moomin felt himself pulled inside by an unseen force. He then felt his feet return to the ground when he was brought before the large fireplace. From the shadows, a hunched and wrinkled figure emerged. She was dressed in mismatched colors with red hair worn in an odd updo, face covered in warts and a gnarled clawed hand outstretched towards him. Moomin knew immediately she was the Witch.

“Who trespasses in the Witch’s home?!” the Witch demanded in a raspy voice. She gave a partial wave of her hand and Moomin found he could move his mouth again.

“Hello, ma’am. My name is Moomin and I come from Moominvalley. I’m sorry to intrude, but I come asking for your assistance!” Moomin said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Oh?” the Witch deliberated. “And what is it that you’ve come to me for?”

“My home, Moominvalley, is in trouble. A great drought and famine has all but completely destroyed it this summer, leaving its people poor and struggling to survive. I’m on a quest to change to find the solution to our misfortune.” Moomin answered honestly.

“I know about that, I live here too. And yes, it is most troublesome.” the Witch said, thinking it over. “but I do not give my services for free. Have you brought anything for a trade?”

“Yes! The basket in my hand contains what I have to offer for a trade. Choose whatever you like.” Moomin said.

“And if I don’t like anything?”

“Then you can tell me what it is you want and I’ll retrieve it for you!” Moomin responded.

The Witch mused on it a moment longer before approaching and taking a look into the basket. On occasion she would ask Moomin about the contents, and he’d answer as best he could. To his chagrin, the Witch turned her nose at the jams, threads, needles, and herbs. Moomin was highly thankful his father was not present to see how she scoffed with such derision when she looked over the pages of his memoir copies. Not even the rings interested her.

“And what is _this_ , young moomin?” the Witch inquired, holding up the basket and pointing to a lovely pearl roughly the size of a small peach pit.

Moomin gasped. He must’ve put it in the basket by mistake instead of its usual place in his pocket pouch! “Oh! That’s my lucky find! Mama told me I should give it to someone special when I find them. I don’t know exactly what she means, so I carry it around as a good luck charm. Just in case I meet them.”

“This is a very fine jewel you have. If you’re willing to trade that, then I’d be very willing to hear you out and offer my aid to your quest.” the Witch said slyly, greedily ogling it.

Moomin looked down, thinking it over. The pearl was the closest he had to what he’d call his ‘most valued possession’. After having it for so long, he was loathe to part with it. Still, he decided if that’s what it cost in order to get the Witch’s help to restore Moominvalley and help everyone else, than he would do it!

“If you promise to help me, then it’s yours.” he said at length. “I promise I won’t ask for much, but I need to be sure this isn’t a trick. Give me your word that you’ll help me in my quest, and we have a deal.”

The Witch regarded him weirdly and a hint of begrudging respect. He saw through her intended deceit and set more specific terms she couldn’t loophole out of once the exchange was made. “You’re a clever one. I can’t remember the last time someone was so diligent making a bargain with me. You have my word that I will help you, moomin. No tricks, no lies, no deceptions of any kind. Do we have a deal?”

“It’s a deal.” Moomin affirmed.

Moomin stumbled a bit as the Witch lifted her petrifying hex on him. Giving his limbs a brief stretch, he took back the basket, taking out the pearl and placing it into the Witch’s hand.

“You wish to go on a quest, you say? A daring adventure to help your home and neighbors?” the Witch asked, pocketing her prize.

The troll nodded. “Yes, ma’am! I’ll take on any challenge if it means I can help Moominvalley!”

“Even go up against a Giant?”

Moomin’s eyes widened. He hadn’t really thought about how his quest would go after seeing the Witch, what dangers and obstacles he might go up against to obtain what he sought after. Still, facing a Giant? What a grand adventure that would be! One truly worthy of being a story to share like those of his father! Wordlessly, he beckoned her to continue.

The Witch gave a toothless smile as she regaled the tale. “High above the clouds, he lives a castle all his own. Taller than forty men and strong enough to level the largest lands on our world with a single footstep, an ogre of a gargantuan being who dwarfs even the Boobles, lives the Giant I speak of. The only match to his great size is the cruelty of his heart!”

“He sure sounds scary.” Moomin commented.

“Indeed.” the Witch said. “But for anyone daring enough to brave venturing to his keep in the sky and make it out alive, will find great rewards! For the Giant possesses a bountiful treasury full of riches and rare artifacts he’s stolen from all over the world fit for a thousand kings!”

“Incredible! And this is all true? Not merely rumor?” Moomin enthused, jumping in place with excitement.

“I know it to be true!” the Witch asserted. “I’ve seen him with my own two eyes on my broomstick flights! Gut as large as his greed, covered head to toe in dark hair, grey eyes that pierce your soul and a jagged scar trailing from his jawline to his neck on the left side! And out that window you’ll see the remains of his footprints from when he came and stole from me not a few weeks ago!”

Moomin followed her finger and gaped at the sight outside the window. It was a large hole likely greater than the length of Moominhouse in the ground, and more than vaguely in the shape of a boot track. The footprint of the largest being he’d never before seen. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he refused to let fear deter him.

“What did he take?” he ventured to ask.

“My beloved broomstick! Not only can I no longer fly and travel, but I cannot gather the ingredients for my potions that can’t be found on this land!” the Witch all but wailed, truly upset by the loss. “The scoundrel, if I could, I’d march to his doorstep and show him what _real_ magic can do! Make him rue the day he foolishly thought he could steal from a witch!”

“I’m back with the well water, Grandma!”

Moomin turned towards the door at the sound of the new voice. There stood young girl a head or so taller than himself with long red hair wearing a grey dress and black underclothes smiled back at him. He returned the grin, making the girl’s eyes sparkle like her purple pendant.

“Very good, Alicia. Go set that on the table, please.” the Witch directed. “This is my granddaughter.”

Alicia nodded and placed the pail in its designated spot. “I’m learning to become a witch. Who are you and what brings you here? Grandma doesn’t have many guests.”

“Nice to meet you!” Moomin greeted. “I’m Moomin and your grandmother is helping me on my quest to save Moominvalley! She was just telling me about the treasury in the Giant’s Keep above the clouds!”

Alicia made a face and put her hands on her hips. “Grandma! There are far less dangerous ways and places for him to go to find what he’s looking for, and you know it! And you can make another broomstick!”

“A Witch cannot make another broomstick for herself lest it is broken beyond repair! You know that, Alicia! And all attempts to make another have failed, so I know it is still in tact!” the Witch retorted.

“Then use my broomstick instead!”

“Yours is a beginner’s broomstick! It’s not fit to handle the more intensive journeys I make!” the Witch argued back. “And you cannot expect me to use it forever when you as a witch in-training will need it!”

“If I may, I’d still like to go to the Giant’s Keep.” Moomin said, clearing his throat.

Alicia looked shocked. “What?”

“You really wish to go somewhere so dangerous when there are easier options available?” the Witch asked, disbelief in her voice.

“Of course! Not only can I get enough wealth for the people of Moominvalley, but I can get your broomstick back too! All I ask is for is a single magic favor so I have the means to reach the Giant’s Keep in the sky.” Moomin proclaimed. “I’d be able to help everyone and go on a great adventure!”

“A very daring young man, you are. Very well. In fact, if you _do_ bring me back my broomstick, I’ll grant you an additional magic favor as a reward!” the Witch dared.

“You have a deal!” Moomin declared, shaking her hand.

The Witch then ordered Alicia to gather something from a specific drawer upstairs while she fetched something from her shelves. Moomin watched quietly as the Witch fished through various jars before pulling out one from the back of the top shelf. The Witch then poured a small sample of the contents into her hand, spoke a few magic words, then placed them inside the small pouch Alicia returned with.

“These are enchanted beans. You must plant them on an open field, water them once at sunset for three days wherein on the third night will be under a full moon. If you follow my directions exactly, they’ll grow taller than the largest jungle vine and give you passage to the Giant’s Keep above the clouds.” the Witch instructed, handing him the pouch.

Moomin marveled the small beans inside and the soft green glow they made. “I will. Thank you for your help! And I promise to bring back your broom as well!”

With a final wave goodbye, Moomin left the house and headed home with both ladies watching him go.

“What’s with that look, Grandma? You don’t believe he can do it?” Alicia chided, eying her grandmother’s smirk.

“I don’t doubt he’ll make the beans grow, my grandchild. But to be victorious in everything else he claims?” the Witch scoffed. “That would take a _miracle_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t forget to comment!


	3. The Magic Beans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Oh the next few chapters shouldn’t take as long!”  
> —FurorNocturna jinxing and utterly screwing her writing process, May 27, 2019
> 
> Here’s chapter 3
> 
> Special thanks to JirsSnufminArchive for betaing!

Moomin hurried home as fast as his legs could carry him. The journey wasn’t exactly a short one and his feet protested greatly, but he was too happy to care. The first part of his quest was a grand success! Before noontime, even!

As he made his way over the dry grass of the hills leading towards Moominhouse, Moomin spotted his three friends waiting on the bridge.

“There he is!” Sniff shouted.

“Moomin!” Snorkmaiden exclaimed.

“And just where have you been! What’s with all that stuff you’re carrying?” Little My demanded. “We couldn’t find you anywhere!”

“Moominmamma and Moominpappa wouldn’t tell us anything, either. We were worried!” Snorkmaiden added.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you worry, but there was something important I had to do alone.” Moomin said.

“Out with it already, then! Tell us!” Little My prompted brashly.

“I went to the Forest of Witches.” he began, making all his friends gasp.

“Th-The Forest of Witches?! Why would you ever want to go there!” squeaked Sniff, nervously tugging at his ears.

“How scary! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Snorkmaiden fretted.

“You went _without_ me?!” Little My interjected, insulted.

“I had to go alone. I didn’t know how what the Witch was like, and I didn’t want anyone else with me to be in danger. Fortunately, I wasn’t hurt at all, but I didn’t want to take any chances.” Moomin continued, ignoring the mymble’s harrumph. “And I went so I could speak to the Witch, of course!”

“The Witch!” Sniff shrieked. “There’s really a Witch who lives there?!”

“Surely it wouldn’t be called ‘The Forest of Witches’ if no witches lived there, Sniff.” Moomin sighed. “We made a deal so that she’d help me on my quest to save Moominvalley! In exchange, she gave me these magic beans to grow. So long as I follow her instructions exactly, the sprouts will grow tall enough to touch the clouds and bear tons more beans to eat in three days!”

The three then gathered around Moomin as he opened the pouch for them to see. Snorkmaiden and Sniff ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed at their green glow, amazed.

Little My regarded them with a glare. “The glow is pretty, but how do you know it’ll work?”

“What did you trade her for them?” Snorkmaiden asked.

Moomin’s face fell at the reminder. “Oh. I ended up trading my lucky find.”

All three spun his direction in shock. “What?!”

“I didn’t want to!” Moomin insisted. “But it was the only thing she’d accept. It will be worth it in the end once these beans grow.”

“I think you got cheated!” Snorkmaiden said bitterly. “That was very special to you, Moomin! How mean of her to make you give up something so important for a few beans, magic or not!”

“You’re just mad Moomin no longer has that pretty pearl to give you for when he asks for your hand!” Little My heckled.

Both Moomin and Snorkmaiden glared at her, pink in the ears with embarrassment at the very sore topic brought up. Yes, Snorkmaiden was a female friend, but no one whispered strangely about Little My for also being Moomin’s female friend. Likewise, no one asked Sniff strange and prying questions about his relationship to Snorkmaiden. It was most vexing!

 

“How are you both getting along?”

“You’ve known each other since you were little, yes?”

“What do you think of Snorkmaiden, Moomin?”

“Do think Moomin is handsome, Snorkmaiden?”

“You’re both getting to be that age, has he asked you yet?”

 

Moomin did like Snorkmaiden, he really did. He thought she was very pretty, and he liked playing knights and princesses with her along with the rest of his friends. Snorkmaiden also thought Moomin was handsome, and greatly enjoyed joining him on ‘adventures’ around the valley. However, there was a big difference between playing pretend and loving someone for real. Moomin and Snorkmaiden were comfortable pretending and acting the parts of sweet lovers as one would in a play, but there was nothing more to it than friendship beyond that.

Not for the lack of trying.

After all, the townsfolk, Mrs Fillyjonk in particular, _insisted_ that they can’t say they know for sure unless they tried courting. So once they learned what one was wont to do when courting another and the feelings that should follow, that’s what they did. If for nothing else, to curb the constant nagging and slew of uncomfortable questions for a time.

They went on private walks, gave each other flowers, wrote nice poetic letters, had many dinners for two, held hands, even kissed as moomins and snorks did. The problem was that while they could act out what they knew of expressing romantic love and interest…truly ‘feeling’ that way, something deeper than the ways they’ve shared and known for as long as they could remember, was not something they ever achieved.

Unfortunately, years later, their assumed love was _still_ the talk of the town despite their public breakup on good terms, much to their chagrin. Even the current matter of the sun turning Moominvalley into a dying wasteland didn’t make them forget or stop unsubtly insisting they get back together. How it baffled Moomin as to why anyone would continue to insist on two persons with incompatible romantic chemistry should be in love.

People could be so strange.

“You know it’s not like that, Little My,” Moomin huffed.

“That’s right! It’s not!” Snorkmaiden agreed, visibly more incensed than Moomin. “We’re not in love or ever getting married, and you know it!”

Little My actually did know the truth. Heck, she was one of only a few who not only knew, but accepted that truth. This was just one of many ways for how she amused herself in the sole company of her friends.

“Then find yourselves your real true loves already so I have something else to tease you about!” Little My shot back. “Then I can stick it to the rest of the valley for not believing you!”

“And you can't tell them now because?” Moomin asked.

“They’ll only believe when they have proof! Can’t have them not believing my word when there’s more pranks to be made over a stupid fake love affair!” the redhead snorted. “Besides, it’s far more entertaining for me this way!”

Snorkmaiden’s fur deepened to a light vermillion hue, fists clenched. Knowing the color’s meaning when a snork’s fur changes color in reflection of their mood, Moomin placed a paw on his friend’s shoulder in hopes to calm her down. Bad things happened whenever Snorkmaiden’s fur was ever allowed to turn a full red.

“Just ignore her.”

“But–!”

“I know, but that’s just Little My being Little My. She doesn’t mean anything by it, so try not to let her bother you.” Moomin coaxed, giving Snorkmaiden’s shoulder a small squeeze. “Besides, I still need to tell my parents about the beans and get them planted! On the third night, they have to be watered under a full moon, which is two days from now so we can’t delay!”

“I’m still not sure about this.” Snorkmaiden admitted, wringing her hands together.

“We’ll still get to play for most of the day; I just need to return to the planted site at sunset to water them. I don’t know about the rest of you, but our cellar rations are dwindling. It might sound crazy, but the Witch swore on her magic that they’d grow if we followed her instructions. If there’s any chance to replenish our food supplies in such a short time, we might as well give this a try, right?” Moomin urged, pleading with his sky blue eyes.

Snorkmaiden considered his words a moment before smiling. “Alright! You can count on me!”

“I’ll help too!” Sniff seconded.

“Oh fine!” Little My gave in. “But if this does turn out to be a big waste of time, you have to take me to see the Witch so I can bite her hands off for tricking you!”

Moomin laughed and nodded. That settled, the four friends made their way to Moominhouse to tell Moominmamma and Moominpappa about the three magic beans.

* * *

Moomin relayed the story to his parents, but held off on informing his friends and family about the rest of his quest and the Giant’s Keep for the time being.

Moominmamma was ever supportive and willing to help her son in any way she could. With her help, they found the perfect spot in an open field to plant the beans. They ploughed the dried dirt and buried them in a triangle formation a few spaces apart from each other. Several of the townspeople asked about what they were doing, and while a bit unsure, nonetheless agreed to help as well. So it was set up for groups to supervise the mount during the day and defend it from disturbances in shifts (so no one was out in the horrible heat for too long), with Moominmamma providing refreshments.

Then at sunset, Moomin would dutifully water the mount, and Moominpappa would guard it vigilantly throughout the night with his shotgun with the help of Fredrikson and the Inspector.

Afterwards with his remaining hours before bed, Moomin dedicated spending that time with the Joxter as he always did for the last month. He was one of the few who showed the vagabond any semblance of kindness after the calamity struck Moominvalley, and volunteered at every opportunity to be the one to deliver Moominmamma’s meals to the mourning mumrik throughout parts of the day. With each day, he looked worse, his clothes hung off a bit looser, but never once did Moomin skip a meeting with the Joxter.

However, unlike even Joxter’s closest friends, Moomin actively listened to Joxter’s murmurings and omens of more Forebodings. Not all of them made sense, but he was well rewarded for believing their verity.

The Joxter predicted every moment of bad luck from mishaps, to small accidents, to even a few other disasters like a rockslide, though fortunately none as major as the Merciless Summer. In turn, Moomin was able to evade them both for himself and at times, even prevent them from happening to others.

With every visit that followed each avoided misfortune, Moomin would share his experience with Joxter and commend his Forebodings for warning him from the dangers before going into other topics of his day. The conversation was largely one-sided on Moomin’s part, but he didn’t mind. He always let Joxter know he had no obligation to speak if he didn’t want to.

Nevertheless, Moomin was always very chatty and positive for his talks with Joxter. Then on the eve of the third day, his own bottled up discontent had caught up with him.

“I’m worried, if I’m being honest,” Moomin said on the third evening. “Everyone else has their doubts on this amounting to anything but a fool’s errand and a cruel swindle by the Witch. I don’t want to believe that, but there’s no sign of even the smallest of shoots having grown since the beans were planted. What if this _is_ just a big trick and I gave up my most valued possession for nothing? What will I do then if that’s the case when I wake up tomorrow? Would your Forebodings know the answer? I don’t want to trouble you, but I can't help but wonder, y’know?”

Joxter didn’t answer, and Moomin didn’t expect him to. Moomin mustered a small smile and bid the Joxter ‘goodnight’ before getting up to leave. Right as he turned his back, Moomin felt something grab his paw.

He turned around to see it was the Joxter, reaching out to him. For the first time in ages, Moomin was able to get a good look at the mumrik’s face unobscured by the red brim of his hat. His complexion was gaunt and unsightly pale, stark against his shaggy raven hair and ungroomed stubble. The contrast was made even more glaring by the hollows in his cheeks and dark circles ringing about his chatoyant bloodshot eyes. The twin beryl irises that Moominpappa described as always glinting with mischief and one of the most terrifying sights to come across in the shadows of night.

As Moomin looked into them now, the only light to them left was the firelight reflected off the glaze which clouded over them. Once beacons of fainéant but vibrant esprit, now shattered windows to a broken soul.

With a shaky breath, the Joxter spoke.

“Few can be bothered to give this old tramp the time of day. Fewer still can do so with any shred of goodwill. These days, only you will do both, as well as actually give a damn about my say on things out of everyone in this entire valley. So if you’re willing to take my mindless drunken ramblings to heart, to spend time out of your day to tell me things worthwhile to you…it’s only right I give back and say something that counts.”

Moomin cocked his head. “You say that as if nothing you’ve said before mattered. And that’s just not true, sir.”

The Joxter barked a laugh.

“And that there is why I’ll say it. That heart of gold you have that lets you see worth in such silly things. That’s the most important of all traits that gives someone the makings of greatness, you know.” Joxter continued, inhaling and exhaling deeply before speaking again.

“To answer your question, I can’t predict everything the future holds. I can foretell ill omens, but only so far as that they’ll come and their severity, not all they’ll entail. I knew only this devastation would happen and be as bad as it is, not that it’d be a drought and famine that did it until it hit. I also can’t say with any certainty anything about good omens to come.” A large smirk then raked its way across his face. “But I have no Forebodings about this Beanstalk I’m told will grow from those magic beans you planted. Best I can tell, I’d say the odds for your magic favor working ought to prove favorable.”

“You really think?” Moomin dared ask.

Joxter gave Moomin’s paw a reassuring pat. “I sadly can’t give you any absolutes, but with no Forebodings, I don’t see any reason to think otherwise. So hold on to that hope until tomorrow, yeah? When we’ll both know for sure.”

Moomin beamed, taking the Joxter’s clawed hand into his paws to shake it. “I will! Thank you, Mr Joxter, sir.”

The elder returned the handshake, sending the boy off with a wave and a fleeting, wistful smile. _Such a bright soul, that one_ , he thought as his lips fell back into a frown. _Very much his father’s son. If Fate had been kinder, perhaps he could’ve known–_

He bit his fangs down on his tongue, hard enough to faintly taste blood. Anymore of those thoughts, and he’d be too lachrymose to properly drink himself to sleep. What a maudlin mess he had become if nature’s songs could no longer lull him to slumber. Alas, only the swigs of alcohol could gain him any rest, or to even cease the endless thoughts at the core of his misery. His _failure_.

Moomin was only a few steps away when the Joxter then said something else. It was spoken so softly, as if only meant for himself to hear. Yet, Moomin still understood every hushed word of Joxter’s quiet musings as the pop of another bottle being uncorked rang in the silence.

“Objects, for all their worldly or rosewater value, are but mere items in the end. Their loss may sting, but the hurt will always mend, ultimately leaving no lasting grievous impact. Disappearing as completely as it came like a scrape or bruise. Contrarily, the loss of a person most dear, no matter how well the scar has healed with time…that is a pain that can never know any true absolution.”

His words echoed in Moomin’s mind over and over until he fell asleep in his room.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

_Moomin’s dream this night was unlike any he ever had before._

_Now, when it came to its content, Moomin could boast many more fantastical dreams that made this dream dreadfully ordinary by comparison. Dreams of great excitement, grand adventure, or even sheer absurdity that would make great stories in their own right. This dream did not humble those other dreams by any stretch of the imagination with an even better adventure._

_What made this one stand out, however, was how it was different. There was keener awareness and a sense of control Moomin never experienced before. All his other dreams played out like a storybook, with everything almost automatic in how it happened. Here, Moomin captained the ship for what happened._

_First, he placed himself at the mount where the beans were planted. With a thought, he willed them to grow. Like a stretching arm, the first two sproutlets then broke from the soil. As the stalks grew in height, they grew in bulk. Once thin as a vine, now thick as Moomin was around, all in a matter of seconds. With each inch, a batch of leaves and bean pods burst forth._

_The third stalk then sprouted from underneath him, growing and growing and carrying him upwards until it breached the clouds._

_Moomin held on to it singlehanded as he did on the mast of a ship, laughing at the thrill of the Beanstalk taking him higher, higher, higher still. The three plants twirling and intertwining into one stalk larger put together than they were on their own._

_In a leap of faith, he avasted off onto the clouds. And what a soft and bouncy landing that was! The young troll giggled until the bouncings stopped. His blue eyes then fixated upon the stony, desolate fortress in the distance._

_The Giant’s Keep._

_Moomin darted for it. Adventure was calling and treasures untold awaited!_

_For whatever reason, he found himself skidding to a stop when a faraway noise pricked his ears. A reedy, sonorous noise that melded into a mellifluous melody the longer he listened._

_“Music?” he wondered._

_It had to be. It rang clear enough for him to pick out note variation, though was also faint enough that the instrument behind it remained a mystery. As more of the tune played, it flowed seamlessly between opposing emotions._

_Happy, yet also carried sadness. Uplifting, yet bittersweet. And altogether hauntingly beautiful._

_With renewed vigor, Moomin began his sprint once more. He had to know more!_

_Then something else sounded._

_A voice?_

_Perhaps someone calling out to him. Someone who needed rescuing!_

_Moomin picked up his pace. It sounded like his name! Someone really was calling for help!_

_Yet his legs were now sluggish, as if knee-deep in Moominmamma’s molasses. Gone was the speed and control from before. No! He couldn’t be stopped! He had to find the source of the cry! The source of that music!_

_Someone was in trouble!_

_He had to help!_

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“MOOMIN!!”

Moomin jolted awake with a yelp. A second scream escaped him when he was greeted to an up close and personal view of two beady green eyes.

“Little My!?”

“Come on, Moomin! Get up! You gotta come see this!” she shouted, jumping on his stomach again.

He rubbed his eyes with a groan. “What is it?”

“It’s the Beanstalk!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment!


	4. The First Climb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain in the ass.
> 
> So much so, I needed a coauthor for it cause my brain was like “naaaah fam, good luck imma write for every chapter but this one”.
> 
> Thus, I must sing the lauds of JirsSnufminArchive for being my hero who gallivanted to my rescue from the dreaded monster that is writer’s block. They are a brilliant mind and I cannot shower them in enough praises. Please check out their fic “To Eat Among Trolls” as well, which is another great Snufmin story (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19105285/chapters/45395905#workskin).
> 
> Alright, rant over. Enjoy what you actually came here to see.

“The Beanstalk? What?” Moomin said groggily, still a bit out of sorts as one often is when they just wake up.

“See for yourself, you big doofus! Look!” Little My pressed, dragging him out of bed and towards his window.

After rubbing his eyes a few times, Moomin could see exactly what she meant as he looked out through the glass aperture.

Visible even from the distance Moominhouse was from the mount, Moomin gaped at the sight. The beanstalk had not only sprouted but towered and spread into the sky, all the way up into the clouds. Just as the Witch said.

“Wow…” Moomin breathed in awe.

“Come on!” Little My called as she took off out of his room. Moomin did so briskly behind Little My as she lead him to where the beans had been planted.  
  
The closer they got the greater in magnitude the Beanstalk appeared. He was so caught up in staring that he almost failed to notice the excitable crowd surrounding the towering crop before he walked nearly walked right into them.

As the crowd noticed Moomin, they stepped aside to let him through to where his mother and other members of the community were harvesting the large bean pods growing from the stalk. As he passed them by, he was given a flurry of ‘thank yous’ and other congratulatory remarks for his miraculous success.

He was soon at his parents’ side and they stopped their bean pod picking to hold him in a warm embrace.  
  
“You’ve done it, son! A fine job!” Moominpappa lauded him with a fiercely proud grin.

Moominmamma smiled too. “There’s enough beans here to last the valley a very long time. We’ll surely make it through this weather now thanks to you.”

Moomin smiled back. “Thank you, Mama, Papa. But I’m not done with my quest yet.”

“Whatever do you mean, Moomin?” Moominmamma asked.

“There was something else the Witch told me.” Moomin began. “She said that above the clouds is where I can find what we need to help Moominvalley.”

“But son, what else could we need? As your mother said, the beanstalk itself will sustain the valley.” Moominpappa added.

“I’m sure it could, but we can’t simply eat beans for the rest of our lives, Papa! Beans are okay, but I’m sure none of us want to eat them forever. I’d personally miss Mama’s pancakes and pies too much, and it’d be terrible if she could never make them again.” Moomin argued. “And what happens if the Beanstalk dies in the winter? Or even before the summer ends? We haven’t gotten anything else to grow so far, so we can’t just rely on the Beanstalk alone!”

Moominpappa paced a paw on his chin, deep in thought. “Well, that is true, but what’s up above the clouds that could help?”

Moomin beamed. “I was just getting to that! The Witch told me that a giant lives up in the clouds who possesses grand trove of treasures! I can bring some back for us to trade with other towns to get what we need!”

Some of the other townsfolk overheard their conversation and gasped, muttering amongst themselves. Moomin could loosely pick up their remarks of fear and disapproval, but paid them no mind.

“Are you quite sure that facing a giant for things to trade is the best option?” Moominmamma queried, glancing up towards the sky. “We could try to trade for things with what we already have.”

“I’m sure, but those journeys for aid could take weeks or even months to make there and back. We also can’t afford for the trades to fall through, and treasure will more certainly be accepted in a trade than beans would! Besides, the Giant also has stolen the Witch’s broom, and the Witch said she’d give me another magical favor if I could retrieve it for her. I can use it to bring the better weather back!” Moomin countered.

“Be that as it may, you’re just one moomin.” Moominpappa pointed out. “Are you sure you could pull off something like facing a giant for the chance to save one broomstick?”

“Please, Papa!” Moomin pleaded as he pulled his final trump card. “You should understand more than anyone else why I need to do this. It may be dangerous and it won’t be easy, but it’s not an adventure without them! This is my first big call! I need to answer it!”

Moominmamma touched Moominpappa’s shoulder lightly. “I’ve certainly heard plenty of stories like this from your memoirs, dear and shouldn’t he be allowed to want adventure just as you did?”

There were three things Moominpappa respected above all else: Moominmamma, Moominmamma’s cooking, and the call of adventure. Seeing the sparkle in his father’s eyes, Moomin knew he had been won over.

“You’re absolutely right! What a foolish thought that you might not go. You’ve got an incredible opportunity here, my boy! Your first grand adventure already and so young, just like me!” he declared, wrapping an arm around Moomin. “I’m so proud of you! I’m sure you’ll get that witch her broom and return here an even more glorious hero!”

Moomin returned the hug with vigor and smiled. “Oh thank you! I won’t let you down!”

Moominmamma smiled at her family. “Let’s head back to the house and prepare you for a journey then, shall we?” 

* * *

Moominmamma helped her son pack up on necessities such as food, water, extra clothes and other tools that might be of use on his journey. Making sure everything was packed up and organized inside her boy’s rucksack.

“That should be just about everything,” she said, closing up the bag for her son.  
  
“Thank you, Mama,” Moomin gave a smile and turned to face the door.  
  
Moominpappa placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Not so fast. I know you’ll do great, son, but it’d put my and your mother’s minds more at ease if you took someone with you.”

Moomin turned back to his parents and gathered friends. He wasn’t particularly keen on bringing along a travel companion, but easily caved to his parents’ wishes. “Alright. If it’d help you not to worry as much.”

Little My stepped forward immediately. “It’ll be _me_ you pick, of course!”

Moomin frowned. “I was actually going to ask Sniff to come with me, Little My.”

“What?!” both Sniff and Little My shouted together.

“Why me!?” Sniff shrieked.

“Yeah! Why him?!” Little My demanded. “I’m a hundred times tougher and braver than he is! No dumb ol’ giant is gonna scare me, unlike this lummox who’s scared of his own shadow!”

“You’re right on those accounts,” Moomin admitted, ignoring Sniff’s ‘Hey!’ of protest towards that statement. “but that won’t make a difference here.”

“And why not!”

“Because I need someone who can help me carry the treasure back!” Moomin replied.

At the word ‘treasure’, Sniff was at full attention. “Treasure?” he parroted, quiet enough that nobody heard.  
  
“Your arms wouldn’t be able to carry treasure and climb back down the beanstalk.” Moomin continued. “It’d be much too heavy! And in a giant’s house, you’d be even tinier! Odds are even the treasure itself will dwarf you!”

Little My puts her hands on her hips in indignation. “But I’m strong! And faster and braver than anyone else here! I’m a much better choice!”

At this point Moominmamma stepped in. “Don’t be upset, Little My. I have plenty of use for somebody quick and brave while we wait for them to come back.”

Little My looked like she might protest again but thought better of it. “I suppose, but I really wanted to go on an adventure!” 

“If I have to make more trips, I promise to bring you along.” Moomin told her.

Little My gave him a determined look. “You better! Or else I’ll bite your hands and feet off! That way, only _I’d_ be able to go on big adventures like this!”

Moomin gave a nod, knowing that Little My didn’t say things lightly. “What do you say, Sniff?”

“Of course I’ll go if it means treasure!” Sniff declared. “Why didn’t you say so sooner!?”

Moomin gave a playful roll of his eyes. “Are you quite sure, Sniff? It won’t be too scary for you up there, will it?”

Sniff shook his head.

“Of course not! I’m never scared, and not even a giant will stand between me and treasure!” he babbled. “I’ll carry home both our weights in gold! No, even more! I’ll be sure to carry home enough to guarantee we get a hero’s welcome from everybody once we return! You can count on me!”  
  
Sniff’s newfound willingness made Moomin light up with joy. “It’s settled then! Let’s get you packed and head off already!”

* * *

With Sniff’s rucksack all packed for travel and Moominpappa’s old climbing gear in hand, the two boys set out for the Beanstalk. Many people from the valley remained crowded around the beanstalk, collecting beans or anticipating seeing the pair off on their expedition.

The crowd was abuzz with questions for Moomin as he approached.  
  
“Are you sure you can climb so high?” Mumble, Little My’s eldest sister, asked uncertainly. Her blue eyes kept gazing up to where the Beanstalk disappeared into the clouds.  
  
“Is a treasure worth something like this when we already have so many beans?” questioned a hemulan lady.

Moomin repeated his assurances that while their concerns were appreciated, they had nothing to worry about. It wasn’t until the shrill voice of Mrs Fillyjonk made itself heard that Moomin stopped in his tracks.  
  
“You can’t be serious! What if you were to be killed? How would your sweet Snorkmaiden feel then??”

Moomin bristled at her words. How many times did he have to explain to Mrs Fillyjonk that he and Snorkmaiden were no longer together in order for her to get a clue!?

When they had publicly declared their break up, Mrs Fillyjonk threw quite the fit. She scolded them about how they weren’t trying, they didn’t court long enough, that the fact they didn’t feel that way meant they did something wrong in the courting process. A few others rallied with her because she was so loud about it.

He and Snorkmaiden had done everything as she instructed when she pressured them into courting. But because they didn’t give her the results she wanted, the snooty Fillyjonk just found another reason to complain instead of admitting she was wrong about her matchmaking idea. Like any sensible person would.

That was when Moomin decided there was just no pleasing Mrs Fillyjonk on anything, and avoided her unless absolutely necessary. She had made it quite clear she was not by any means a ‘sensible’ individual.

For someone whose own husband was notably absent, with three children who despised her disciplinarian take on their upbringing and didn’t appreciate her own business being challenged, she was awfully nosy about the affairs of others. It made no sense that she was constantly trying to force her weird views of perfectionism on everyone else when she couldn’t even uphold them all herself! She ought to fix her own life first before sticking her prissy pointed snout into other’s lives to domineer!

Moominpappa had laughed the hardest Moomin had ever seen him after saying as such as he told his parents about how she was still bothering him and Snorkmaiden about courting each other. Moominmamma, in between her own giggles, had him swear on the Booble that he would never repeat that to Mrs Fillyjonk in person. In addition, she gave her sage advice on how he and Snorkmaiden could handle things, which came down to pretending they were both deaf to the misguided whispers and comments, and to be patient until the town had a new gossip to chatter about.

Moomin wasn’t happy that they couldn’t just stop after being told to do so, but following his mother’s advice served both him and Snorkmaiden well. Unfortunately, this misconceived fancy between him and his friend was still the biggest talk of the town all thanks to his persnickety neighbor.

Now with Mrs Fillyjonk insisting once more of his ‘duties’ to Snorkmaiden and perpetuating the lie in front of so many people who didn’t know better not to believe her, Moomin found it harder than ever to hold his tongue as he had promised.  

“I won’t be killed and Snorkmaiden won’t have to worry about either of her _friends_ dying!” he asserted firmly.

Mrs Fillyjonk gave a perturbed huff but was interrupted.

“Can we get going now?” Sniff trilled, antsy to find treasure.

Moomin nodded and turned away from Mrs Fillyjonk. “Of course, Sniff. I just need to do one last thing first.”

Moomin searched the area and then brightened as his eyes found the Joxter and approached him with a wave.

“Morning, Mr Joxter!” he greeted, smiling playfully at the mumrik’s perplexed expression. “What? You didn’t think because I have a quest I’d forget to bring your breakfast, did you?”

Joxter gave a small quirk of his lips. “I can always hope you’ll one day not bother yourself over this bedraggled vagrant.”

“You aren’t a bother at all! Mama made some delicious toast and jam.”

“I can still dream you’ll one day come to your senses, but thank you all the same,” he said, sitting up slightly from his slouched position to accept the meal. As he ate in silence, he considered the crowd around the Beanstalk. “There’s a lot of fuss going around.”

“Oh yes! Sniff and I are going to go up the Beanstalk! The beans are all well and good, but there’s also treasure at the top that we could use to rebuild Moominvalley!” Moomin explained.

“Is that so?” Joxter regarded him noncommittally. “What kinds of treasure do you think you’ll find up there?”

“I don’t know. The Witch said the Giant has huge hoard of treasures that he’s stolen from all around the world! Gold, silver, precious jewels, who knows what we’ll find, but I can’t wait to find out!!” Moomin prattled excitedly.

The Joxter’s eyes sharpened a bit as he studied the youth. “Can I ask you something, Moomin?”

“Uh, sure.” Moomin said, confused.

“What’s so important about this quest? Why is it so important to you that you go to the Giant’s Keep specifically?” he prompted.

Moomin considered the question carefully, thinking deeply how to reply.

“It’s true that part of the reason is the promise of a big adventure. I want to explore and be just as brave and cool as my Papa, accomplish great daring feats as he has. But there’s more to it than that.” he answered honestly. “I’ve lived in Moominvalley all my life. I love it inside and out; the land and the people make it a beautiful place I’m proud to call home…and this awful weather has destroyed it. No amount of beans can fix that, Mr Joxter. I need to go find the Witch’s broom. In exchange for returning it, the Witch promised me another magic favor. One I plan to use to return life to the land of Moominvalley. I want everyone in the valley to be safe and happy again like before, and that’s why I’m pursuing this quest. Finding treasure and adventure is nice, but the greatest glory will be in returning the happiness that was lost in this drought and famine.”

The Joxter smirked proudly. “Very good. Acknowledging your self-interested personal wants as part of the reasoning behind your choices, but nevertheless maintaining altruistic motives at the core. There are many proclaimed and celebrated figures who refuse to admit such of themselves. You’ve proved yourself both truly valorous and honest…therefore better than any of those charlatans could ever hope to be.”

Moomin blushed, but couldn’t help but preen a bit at the praise.

“Best wishes on your venture. Not that you’ll need them, since the Forebodings have still been quiet. It can only be good sign, just like their absence during the three days you cultivated that whale of a crop, eh?” Joxter then remarked, releasing a puff from his pipe after a long drag.

“Thank you. And thank you for what you said yesterday too…” Moomin said appreciatively. “You’re really wise, you know. Even more than the Muskrat. People should listen to you more.”

“You make it out like I said something more profound than telling you what you easily could’ve figured out on your own. And  _everyone_  sounds wise compared to that nut whose only words of wisdom to offer are to insist that everything is pointless! Now then, I’ve said my piece and you’ve done what you came for, so off you go. I’m ready for a nap.” Joxter ribbed, playfully shooing him away with his paw as Moomin giggled. “I’ve taken up enough of your time already, so I won’t delay your quest any further. From the looks of it, it appears your friend could use some rescuing of his own from that uppity harpy.”

Moomin gave a sheepish grimace, turning quite pink in the face. He did sort of leave Sniff at Mrs Fillyjonk’s mercy back there, hadn’t he? “Right, I’m off now. Take care, sir.”

The Joxter rolled his eyes in jest, but as Moomin got up to leave, the mumrik spoke up once more.

“Still,” sighed Joxter, expression now weary. “even if you do restore the valley and provide for everyone, I’m afraid it won’t guarantee bringing back _everyone’s_ happiness in kind…”

He slouched down again and closed his eyes, pushing the brim of his hat over his face.

Moomin lingered a pause longer to contemplate what the Joxter said. He still didn’t know much about the feline-like vagabond’s loss despite everything else he’s learned about his father’s close friend for over a month now. Regardless, he wasn’t sure how much of it was the real Joxter and how much was purely the alcohol-guzzling husk in ruin from grief. Moomin liked to think the scarce times he’s made the Joxter smile, however briefly, were moments he managed to reach the mumrik buried beneath the pain burdening him. He liked their talks, and cherished seeing the light occasionally wink back into those haunted chatoyant blue eyes…but Moomin wanted to see that gloomy haze removed altogether.

He left Joxter with these words, sealing another crucial promise for him to fulfill on his journey:

“You have my best wishes as well that you’ll find your happiness again. If not, I hope I can find a way to bring it back for you on my quest.”

The Joxter’s tail flicked. “Wouldn't that be a nice sentiment…” 

* * *

It wasn’t until Moomin and Sniff finally began climbing that they realized what a strange task this would be. The Beanstalk’s wide berth made it difficult to find a proper grip, which made the two all the more thankful to have the climbing gear. After some trial and error, they worked out the best method for making their journey upward and began their ascent.  
  
They were sure to be slow and careful, as the higher up they went, the less they could afford to make any mistakes. They managed to scale up a good twenty feet up the stalk before Sniff remembered himself and started to panic, clinging to the stalk as best he could for dear life.  
  
“Oh no! Oh no no! There’s no way we can keep going like this! Look how far away the ground is already!” he whined.  
  
“Come on, Sniff!” Moomin chided. “There’ll be no treasure at all with that attitude!”

Sniff perked up again at the reminder of treasure and snapped out of his fright. He would lose his nerve several more times during their trek to the sky. However, Moomin need only remind him of the treasure that awaited to get his friend to resume climbing with renewed passion to reach the top.

Eventually, the boys made it and breached through the clouds. The wispy masses bundled around them like a soft blanket until they emerged completely on the other side.

Standing now on the firm pillowy surface, Moomin looked around in wonder at just how pretty it was. Their position in the sky made the sunlight hit the surrounding areas quite brilliantly. Sniff leaned down to the clouds and curiously tried to pick some up.  
  
With a surprised gasp, he managed to remove a chunk and hold it in his hands.

“Well, isn’t this something! We haven’t even gotten inside and already I’ve found a treasure!” Sniff exclaimed.

Moomin giggled and picked up his own chunk of cloud. Curiously, he bounced it lightly in his hand before attempting to whip it at Sniff like a snowball. The cloudy ball, however, didn’t take to the momentum and instead floated down before it got anywhere near Sniff.

The duo couldn’t help but laugh at the result, with Sniff deciding to tuck his chunk of cloud into his bag.

Moomin looked around the area, finally taking in his surroundings and realized suddenly that the Giant’s Keep loomed over them and the expanse of clouds they stood on was just a small section of the Keep’s doorstep.

“There it is! The Giant’s Keep!” Moomin cheered. “Come on, Sniff! This way!”

“Alright, hold on!” Sniff protested, following after as Moomin scampered his way towards the structure. The pair easily made their way inside through a crack under the doorway.

The Giant’s keep was grand, looking like a castle built of stone walls and yet its interior was kept homey and simple, almost Spartan. All the same, it could have been a nice place to live if not for the intimidating gargantuan size of everything, or the hanging worry that the homeowner might find them at any moment.

Moomin approached a humongous table at the center of the room. It was much like the dining room table back at Moominhouse, only larger. Many times larger.

“Would you look at that, Sniff! This table could be a mountain in itself!” he marveled.

Sniff shuffled his paws nervously. “Shouldn’t we be more quiet and not be wasting our time with something like this? What if the Giant hears us!”

“If we get up there we would probably have a better eye to see any treasure!” Moomin said simply, but more hushed than before.  
  
“Let’s go then!” he said, before helping Moomin to find a way to climb up on the table. Some time later, two boys stood upon the tabletop, looking out and better able to see the rest of their surroundings from their higher vantage point.

Moomin gave a grin. “Perfect! Let’s see what we can find now!”  
  
Sniff nodded and scanned around eagerly looking for a hint of treasure.

Moomin wandered along the surface towards where things were less sparsely placed. He recognized many items that he had himself at home on the table: plates and utensils, only much _much_ bigger! Sniff took notice as well and joined Moomin in examining the large household objects.

“These spoons are even bigger than Papa’s shovel!” Moomin remarked.  
  
Sniff looked over at one of a giant knives and quivered. “I certainly don’t want to deal with such a huge blade…”

Moomin approached Sniff and placed a gentle paw on his shoulder assuringly. “I’ll be okay, Sniff. I’m sure we’re much too small to be struck like that.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sniff conceded, looking relieved. He turned from the dining set to continue looking about.

Moomin looked at the spoon again, and a brilliant idea formed in his mind. Eager to put it into action, he moved over to try and heft it up.

“Moomin, what are you doing with that??” Sniff asked, quite puzzled.

Moomin managed a good grip on the utensil and lifted it up, lugging it across the table with minimal difficulty to rest next to the butter tray lid.

“Little My once showed me how you can use a spoon as a small catapult. It’s tons of fun, but it’s the most effective with metal silverware, and Mama doesn’t allow us to use the ones at home anymore after that one time…” Moomin replied, adjusting the spoon’s position. “Just think of what we can do with this one! It’s big enough for us to be able to launch ourselves! Not just peas or small pebbles!”

After another minute or so of tinkering and double checking that it lined up just right, Moomin stood and puffed his chest in pride at his handiwork. “There! Come here, Sniff! Let’s give it a try!”

Sniff shuffled over. “Moomin, are you sure this is what we should be doing?”

Moomin gave a small huff. “Come on, Sniff! When will we ever have another chance to try this! And don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe too! I’ve lined its trajectory so that whoever’s launched will have a soft landing on that stack of napkins!”

Sniff looked in the direction Moomin was pointing and spotted said napkin pile. They did look soft enough to cushion a fall, but he remained skeptical. “And just how can you be so sure that’s where I’ll land?”

“Because that’s how I lined it up, and I double checked everything to be sure. It’s one of the things I picked up from helping Snork with his inventions all those times and you’ve even seen me use them in our own adventures with the others before!” Moomin said.

”When!?” Sniff squawked. He couldn’t recall any such instances! Moomin had to be making that up!

“A bunch of times!” Moomin chirped. “That time with the kite, the log seesaw, the forest vines, the basket lift we all made for Little My, the leaf windmill boats, and tons of others! It’s amazing how we use so much of these things everyday and not even realize we do!”

Sniff made a puling noise. Several of those examples had ended with a few mishaps, but if Moomin heard his distress, he paid him no heed.

”Besides, you know Snork; he’s very smart. And he’s said so himself just last week that I’ve gotten really good at the whole…what’d he call it? The ‘classical mechanics’ science thing with all my practice over the years, so you know you can trust me on this.” Moomin explained matter-of-factly, before adding more gently, “I promise I know what I’m doing, Sniff. This’ll be fun!”

Sniff was still uneasy, but he couldn’t deny Moomin made an excellent point. Plus, it _did_ look like a lot of fun. “I guess…okay fine! So, um, I just get on the spoon? Like this?”

Moomin nodded as he helped Sniff better right his stance atop the tip of the spoon’s handle.

“I’ll launch you first, and then you’ll launch me!” Moomin said with a chipper grin.

“Alright…if you’re sure,” Sniff said. Both nervous and excited energy emitted from his person in anticipation, internally praying Moomin actually knew what he was doing and he wasn’t just making him go first because he was an expendable test dummy. As Snork often took him for one, courtesy of Little My.

“You ready?” Moomin called down after climbing up the butter dish cover.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Sniff gulped.

He braced himself with his eyes closed as Moomin jumped off the butter dish lid and onto the optimal spot of the spoon’s bowl. As his full weight landed on his side of the spoon, Sniff was sent flying. The younger of the two screamed his lungs out in the most undignified manner throughout the duration he was airborne, but tumbled to a landing unharmed on the napkin stack with a quiet ‘oof!’.

Moomin laughed excitedly, jumping for joy. “Whoo hoo! Success! Now hurry up and get back over here, it’s my turn now!”

Sniff stood up shakily and held his head. “Alright, alright! Just give me a minute!”  
  
Being a fair bit heavier than Sniff, Moomin made a few adjustments to the setup to account for their weight differences. Once he had done so, he settled himself in the spoon handle. Sniff then made his way up onto the lid and launched him as he had done prior when Moomin gave him the go ahead.  
  
The rush of the air flying past him as he soared across the table was exhilarating, whooping the whole time. Then like Sniff before him, Moomin stuck the landing on the napkin pile, only with far more grace than his friend did.

Moomin jumped about in his celebration after sliding off the stack, Sniff applauding as he trotted over. The younger mammal squeaked in surprise as Moomin grabbed his paws and spun them around in his mirth. They kept up spinning in circles until they both got dizzy and fell over in a heap, still laughing at the excitement and thrill of it all.

Just then, their revelry was interrupted by a sudden, echoing sound that shook Moomin to the core.

It was not the wind. Nor was it any idle sound in the formidable fortress.

Despite what you might immediately assume would startle him so, dear reader, it wasn’t the Giant making his appearance either.      

No.

Instead, what so greatly discomposed Moomin’s very soul and made his heart come to a stop was overhearing the sound of _music_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R. Don’t forget to comment!


	5. The Captivating Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the moment the cute shit starts
> 
> Jir is still the best beta/chapter fixer upper!

Moomin gasped.

 _Music_!

Music in the Giant’s Keep! Someone was here! Just like his dream!

Breaking into a run, Moomin followed the melodious tune into the furthest room in the Giant’s Keep. Sniff trailed timidly behind, hissing at him to wait up and not to go towards what could only be a trap, but Moomin ignored him. From a glance, it looked to be a bedroom, but Moomin wasn’t focused on that.

It was the music that held his attention, that of a harmonica as he was now able to identify and most importantly, the performer behind it. Moomin couldn’t make out much from his current low vantage point, just that the performer was very talented and looked to be closed inside a large empty jar (or standard sized for its Giant owner, if looked at from that perspective). The mystery of it all greatly captivated the young troll.

He was only brought out of his thoughts when the music stopped and a new voice spoke up.

“I thought I heard voices. What brings a couple of strangers to the Giant’s Keep?”

The mellow timbre of the new voice unbalanced Moomin, but he quickly found his own to answer. “Hello, up there! We’re just a couple of daring adventurers from below the clouds. While we were exploring, we heard music and followed it here!”

The responding tittered laughter was a lovely sound. “Fancy that! Coming all this way just to see me over a silly tune.”

“I thought it was lovely!” Moomin called back. “Give us a moment to climb up to where you are!”

“Why’s that?”

“So we can talk without shouting at each other!” Moomin yelled.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“I’m also really curious about what you look like, if I can say as much! I’d like to know the face behind that beautiful music!” Moomin added.

That earned another chuckle. “Don’t get your hopes up too much. I’m nothing special.”

The climb was a tough one, but not nearly as arduous as scaling up the Beanstalk. Before long, Moomin hoisted himself onto the nightstand then pulled Sniff up as well before turning to the jar. For a moment, Moomin lost himself in what his eyes laid upon.

Inside the jar was a boy. A young mumrik, from what Moomin could tell. He looked to be a little taller than Moomin’s height and perhaps a year or so older. He was also clad in scruffy clothing colored in earthy greens, complete with a yellow scarf around his neck and brown string-drawn boots on his feet. To Moomin, they adorned their owner with all the comely grace of a prince dressed in the finest silks. The young troll found himself a little breathless when the handsome stranger gave a slight tip of his worn and feathered green hat, revealing a head full of tousled auburn hair which matched the trim fur on his lissom feline tail.

In one of his paws was a shine of silver, which Moomin identified as the mouth organ he heard him playing earlier. Moomin’s soft blue eyes then met the boy’s coffee brown ones, mesmerized by how they contrasted with his fair complexion.

“Uh, h-he-hello.” Moomin stammered out.

The boy smiled. “Hi.”

Moomin could not understand why his legs now felt like jelly. Or why the world was suddenly so topsy-turvy speaking with this boy now that he knew what he looked like. _Be still, my pounding heart!_

“So, uh, I…My name’s Moomin! A-And this is my friend!” he hastily introduced, realizing with horror that he had been staring.

“Hi? I’m Sniff.” Sniff voiced, still hiding behind his friend.

“You aren’t very careful, giving out your real names so freely.” the boy tsked. “That’s how you get into trouble with the fair folk.”

Moomin froze up in terror. Sniff echoed that shared fear with a shriek.

The stranger smirked. “Lucky for you two, I’m just a traveler who likes to play tricks, not a cunning Fae.”

“How do you know if they _are_ our real names?” Sniff demanded.

“The way you said them. You don’t say an alias, pseudonym, or even a nickname with that same conviction. Not even the most skilled liars can.” the boy responded coolly. “Am I wrong, _Sniff_?”

“…Well, no– Ow! Hey!” Sniff cried out when Moomin elbowed him in the gut, making the mumrik boy chuckle.

“Alright, I’ve had my fun and I apologize for the scare. It really is nice to meet you both. I’m Snufkin.” he introduced.

 _Snufkin_.

Snufkin!

 _What a pretty name…_ Moomin mused to himself, rather deep in a daze.

The more he repeated it in inside his head, the more beautiful it sounded. Like how one loved to sing their favorite song for times on end, the kind that’s sung most intimately in one’s heart.

While Moomin was lost in his own world, Sniff sifted his eyes on the mumrik. “How do we know if that’s _your_ real name?”

“You don’t.” Snufkin said bluntly. “But since that’s all I’m giving you to call me by, you haven’t much of a choice to refer to me as anything else.”

“No fair!” Sniff stamped his foot. “You know our names, so why do you get to keep yours!? We’re not Fae!”

“ _That_ much is for certain.” Snufkin smirked, his smugness incensing Sniff further. “I never asked either of you to tell me your true names. You gave them out to me on your own, so I have no obligation to do the same since it wasn’t a trade. Besides, I’d rather not take my chances with my true name falling into the wrong hands from a tongue as slippery as yours.”

“Why you–! How rude! If this is your idea of how to make friends, then you should know your people skills are _terrible_!” Sniff sputtered. “Right, Moomin?”

It was only then that he noticed his friend was currently unresponsive. “MOOMIN!”

“Huh? Wha? Oh, uh…!” Moomin startled, giving a shy dreamy wave to Snufkin after finding his words again. “Hi, Snufkin. It’s really nice to meet you too.”

“ _Moomin_!” Sniff cried in scandal. “There’s nothing ‘nice’ in the slightest about him! Have you even been listening this whole time?!”

“Seems I’ve made at least one good impression with my ‘terrible people skills’, as you say.” Snufkin laughed, before adding with a touch of sadness, “I’d shake your paw, if not for…well.”

Moomin could hardly believe the nonsense Sniff had apparently spouted, flashing his younger friend a glare.

Snufkin was so very nice!

Very clever too, it seemed! If the way he talked about being wary of the Fae was any indication. It took the cleverest of the clever to outwit the cunning fair folk.

Not to mention a traveler! Oh! He must have so many fantastic and exotic stories to tell of his wanderings! Moomin wanted to hear them all!

A clever and kind traveler who was a nonpareil musician? How could any other creature compare?

He longed, he _yearned_ to know all there was to know about this mumrik boy.

Deeply amidst his quixotic fancies, Moomin doubted there was anything he could learn that could mar his established high opinion. Certainly nothing marred the other boy’s stunning visage, in his mind.

Even seeing him frown–

…wait.

Moomin cringed internally as he broke away from his stupor and saw how downcast Snufkin looked now. How rude of him to daydream while Snufkin was clearly troubled!

Much to his chagrin, it didn’t end the wave of silly thoughts and boundless fondness Moomin felt towards this mumrik boy he just met. He wasn’t sure what came over him to think such things, but decided instantly he didn’t much like seeing such a solemn frown worn on the other boy. Sadness didn’t belong on a person such as Snufkin.

The sight was much too painful.

“If I may, might I ask…why?” Moomin questioned. “Y-You don’t have to answer! I don’t mean to pry if you’re uncomfortable with it!”

Snufkin sighed. “I can’t fault you for wondering. It was bound to be brought up eventually, so I might as well get it out of the way. The Giant abducted me from the world below the clouds, and now he keeps me in this jar.”

Moomin gasped loudly.

No wonder he was so unhappy! Snufkin was a captive here!

“How horrible! That’s absolutely horrible!” Moomin cried. “How could he do such a thing!?”

“He’s cruel and selfish. He doesn’t care about things like that or how he hurts others with his actions. He does whatever he pleases, takes whatever he wants, and he wanted my music all for himself.” Snufkin said, all prior levity gone from his voice.

“Your music is divine, but that doesn’t give him or anyone the right to just take you from your home and lock you away against your will!” Moomin remonstrated.

Much to the young troll’s horror, Snufkin looked even more saddened. “The music he covets is only so pleasing because the tunes were composed when I’m one with nature, in the open spaces of the world around me. Not only have I not been able to create new ones of late in light of my confinement, but the ones I have are becoming tainted from the oppressing captivity. They’re wasting away…just as I am.”

Moomin eyes widened. “What do you mean ‘just like you are’?”

“Mumriks are wanderers by nature. To take that away from a mumrik is no more awful than depriving a selkie of their coat.” Snufkin lamented. “We’re not meant to stay tied to one place, and caging a mumrik is dooming one to die. After how long I’ve been here, I can only pray it comes on swift wings to put me out of my misery already.”

Moomin could barely contain his outrage learning of this injustice done to Snufkin.

He believed the Witch when she said the Giant was cruel, but this was inhumane! Moomin could barely stand to hear Snufkin say such a thing! The Giant clearly didn’t care how badly he was suffering, and the way Snufkin sounded so _hopeless_ about it all?

That absolutely just wouldn’t do!

Without another thought, Moomin rifled through his rucksack for the sharp climbing tools.

“What are you doing?” Snufkin asked.

“I’m going to break the glass is what I’m gonna do! I’ll have you out in a moment!” Moomin proclaimed, brandishing one of the ice axes. “You might want to take a few steps back. I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”

Moomin then swung the ice axe with all his might against the jar.

For a breath, Snufkin was stunned. They’d only just met. Moomin knew little more than his name, yet with no hesitation was attempting to free him right out of the gate? The others always angled information about the Giant’s treasure room whereabouts first. Could it be–?

No. Of course not.

They were merely incompetent or inexperienced, nothing more.

Neither Moomin nor his crass companion had erred to basic caution when speaking with strangers, for crying out loud! One should never be so careless when they lived in a world shared with the fair folk, especially any self-respecting adventurer worth their salt!! What if he was a Fae or another dangerous being waiting to wreak havoc the moment of his release after duping them into freeing him? Of course he _wasn’t_ , but they had no way of knowing that! The fact the possibility didn’t seem to cross either of their minds was just foolhardy!

The macropodine creature — Sniff, was it? — after their first introductions appeared to develop some reasonable skepticism of him at least. But Moomin, despite demonstrating he held the greater intelligence of the two, held on to every word he said without a second thought. He trusted him so blindly.

It was awfully naïve.

“Just…give me a moment…” Moomin heaved, having made not a single crack or dent in the glass. Exhausted though he was, he still raised his arms to try and hack at the glass more. “It’s bound to give out…eventually!”

Still, it was rather adorable. Even if it was in vain.

“It’s no use, I’m afraid.” Snufkin said, melancholy. “The Giant is quite talented in trapping magicks, and placed his strongest spells on my glass prison so that I cannot escape.”

“What about when you need to eat or anything?” Moomin asked, lowering the tool.

Snufkin shook his head. “There’s additional spells in place which make so I don’t get hungry, thirsty or any of the like. The only craving that isn’t magicked away is my want for freedom.”

Moomin made a distressed noise. “Is there _any_ way to let you out?”

“Only the Giant could, but he’s not terribly keen on that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here to begin with.” Snufkin said bitterly.

“There has to be some other way!” Moomin insisted. The mere idea that there truly was no hope for Snufkin–

“Moomin! We need to go find the treasure!” Sniff spoke up.

Moomin went a little hot in the cheeks. For a moment, he forgot that his friend was there. “Forget about that right now! I– _We_ need to help Snufkin!”

“But what about–!”

“We can’t just–!”

“Treasure?” Snufkin inquired. Moomin shifted under his gaze.

“The local witch back in our home, Moominvalley. She told me about the Giant and how he has a huge collection of treasure in his Keep. Our home is in trouble; the fields are dead and its people are poor and hungry. I want to change that, and that brings me here.” said Moomin, a bit dejected.

“So you came in search of the Giant’s treasure to help your families and the people of your home?” Snufkin mused, eyeing them with scrutiny now. “A very noble endeavor. Most I’ve seen come through here only have selfish motives. So why are you now hesitant about your goal?”

“I can’t just take the treasure and leave you!” Moomin blurted.

That was not at all the answer Snufkin was expecting. He had been so sure he’d caught them in their act!

“Of course we still need to help our home, but you need help too!” Moomin squalled. “I can’t in any good conscience leave you behind! I’d be even more cruel than the Giant himself if I did that!”

“There’s nothing we can do for him! It stinks, but we still have the treasure to find!” Sniff said.

“And we don’t know where that is either, so we’re stuck either way!” Moomin shot back. How could Sniff be so tactless in front of Snufkin like that?!

“We haven’t looked hard enough yet!” Sniff whined in argument.

“If you can say that about finding the treasure, how’s that any different from finding a way to help Snufkin!” Moomin fired hotly.

Snufkin cleared his throat. “I know where the Giant keeps his treasure.”

The other two ceased their argument and glanced his way.

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so excited, Sniff!” Moomin scolded. “It’s okay, Snufkin. You don’t need to do that. We’ll just leave and come back for it later once we find the means to get you out.”

This response also took Snufkin aback. Demand or feign disinterest to get him to say more once he revealed that first tidbit, sure, but never had anyone outright refused it entirely.

Moomin was a strange one, for sure.

“It wouldn’t do for you to return home empty-handed if your neighbors are struggling as you claim.” Snufkin rejoined. “If the conditions back home are that severe, you need to get help as soon as possible.”

“But–!”

“He has a point, Moomin.” Sniff vouched. “It took convincing for your parents to let us leave Moominvalley to begin with, and everyone else is doubting we’ll even find anything. If we don’t bring back something, they might not let us try again. I don’t want Mrs Fillyjonk to think she was right, do you?”

Moomin groaned a miserable groan.

As he had the misfortune to know all too well, Mrs Fillyjonk thinking she was right was Mrs Fillyjonk at her most insufferable.

“No, but…” Moomin stammered desperately. “It feels like we’re taking advantage of you here for you to help us while we can’t help you immediately after!”

“I do have to wonder, why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?” Sniff asked, yelping when Moomin smacked his arm at that comment.

Coarsely phrased as it was, Sniff’s question was (for once) a valid one. He wasn’t sure why he was so inclined to aid these two. Well, help _Moomin_ anyways.

They weren’t the first to come here. Snufkin had overheard, and occasionally saw, many from the world below the clouds who ventured to this awful abode. They too sought the Giant’s treasures, some even the Giant himself as well. He still remembers their proud boasts and ignorant bravado, their foundless claims of how they were most capable to slay the Giant and would obtain the greatest glory and riches from the feat. Some had been so thick to claim that the Giant was too stupid for the likes of them to stand a chance should he get in their way, and stealing from him would be child’s play.

He also remembers their resounding failures.

They all declared their victory before the battle was won. Then when the moment actually came, the Giant was always the victor. The screams were always the same, piercing and cowardly, and just like the cravens themselves really were at their core.

Nothing but self-serving _liars_.

Snufkin hated bearing partial or complete witness to such gruesome ends that were much too commonplace for his liking, but he shed no tears over their fates. Least of all for the ones he had been able to interact with in person.

One does not mourn what one does not pity, and he spared no condolences for backstabbers.

As such, Snufkin did not believe the lies this newest face trumpeted about wanting to grant his freedom, but he did believe this Moomin fellow was truly kind. A rarity Snufkin seldom saw in people, both on his travels and the duration of his captivity. Not to mention incredibly polite.

If nothing else, that kindness ought to be rewarded in kind. He wasn’t so petty to allow innocent people to needlessly endure further agony when they could be helped, no matter how much it hurt that the same could not be done for him.

“If you really came here to help your home and neighbors, then I want to help you any way I can with that.” Snufkin replied honestly. “They shouldn’t have to suffer if you can do something about it.”

“That doesn’t mean your suffering is less important!” Moomin disputed.

“It’s kind of you to care, but don’t fret over something beyond your control. There’s nothing you can do for me. I don’t like it either, but that’s the way it is.” Snufkin insisted, trying to convince himself.

“Please don't speak like that, Snufkin! I promise you I'll find some way to get you out of here! I won't let you or your music be lost to the world!” Moomin averred. “I’ll search all the lands and seas if I must to find it, but I will! I’ll help you too! In fact, I want to make it a bargain!”

The raw conviction made Snufkin’s heart shudder. _Don’t fall for it! Don’t be gulled!_ his mind berated. _It’s always a trick! You know it is and you know better! Don’t delude yourself! Do NOT be baited again by promises of the unattainable!_

Yet in spite of this, the vastly culminated cynicism from numerous shattered hopes, he found himself saying, “Alright then. If you must insist, it can be an exchange: I provide you my aid for your quest, then in return, you’ll repay me with my freedom.”

Moomin lit up light the sun. “It’s a deal! I never go back on my word with a deal!”

Snufkin didn’t really believe him, but played along all the same. “The room to the treasury is down the second hall, through the door at the end of the corridor on your third left. The space under the door should be large enough for you both to sneak inside, but you won’t be able to leave with the treasure the same way.”

“Then how are we supposed to get out?!” wailed Sniff.

“I’m getting to that.” Snufkin said. “The treasury is large, and while it initially looks randomized at first, the loot is actually somewhat sorted out. The piles on your right are your best bet; those are the valuables small enough to not only use, but carry in bulk.”

“That’s perfect!” Sniff then cheered.

“Now as I said, you won’t be able to get out with your spoils through the door. However, on the far back wall near the ceiling is an open window. That’s your exit.” Snufkin continued.

“How will we reach something so high up?” Sniff whined again.

“Simple. On the left side of the room is where the magic artifacts are placed. Look for a single black velvet top hat. I don’t remember its exact origins, but I’ve seen the Giant evoke very powerful magic with it. Do you have any scraps on you?” Snufkin inquired. Moomin and Sniff nodded. “Excellent. Just toss them inside the hat, and it will help you.”

“Do you know if there’s a witch’s broom in there as well?” Moomin asked.

Snufkin‘s expression turned thoughtful. “Now that you mention it, the Giant _did_ brag about stealing a flying broomstick a few days back. You’d no doubt find it among the other magic artifacts on the left side, but you don’t plan to take it as well the gold, do you?”

Moomin nodded. “I do. It’s really important that I find that broom.”

Snufkin shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. I know the temptation is tremendous, but taking anything else as a personal trophy would be too great a risk.”

“It’s not for me! That broom belongs to the Witch in Moominvalley. She promised me another magic favor if I could retrieve it for her.” Moomin clarified.

Once more, Snufkin tensed at Moomin’s words. First the genuine compassion, the earnest if futile attempt to break the glass on his own, the initial refusal to accept his insider knowledge until a bargain was forged, now a deal with a witch for a magic favor?

If this was all a ploy, it was certainly an elaborate one. Not that he had any shred of belief that Moomin planned on or would even consider using said favor to help him. That it was even a possibility that it might actually be true.

Why did Moomin have to keep complicating things and making him doubt?

“Alright, then take only the broom. Small amounts of gold from the right side piles won’t be missed, but the Giant will notice if too many artifacts disappear at once. Especially that hat. Use its magic to aid you, but nothing more. Don’t even pick it up.” Snufkin warned. “The first places he’ll going looking if he learns any are missing are the areas right below his Keep.”

“And Moominvalley is right underneath his doorstep! Literally!” Sniff squeaked. It was amazing to Snufkin how this creature changed between emotions.

“Speaking of, what about the Giant himself?” Moomin asked. “How will we get around him and avoid detection?”

Snufkin’s grin broadened. “I knew you were a clever one. The Giant may be a brute, but he’s no fool. He's keenly aware of all that occurs inside these walls. His vision has a few blind spots, but his ears hear _everything_. Considering the racket from all that screaming before you came to see me, I can only imagine what will be in store–"

Sniff jumped in fright, shrieking loudly before covering is mouth with both hands and darting behind Moomin for cover.

“Fortunately for you, he likes to make his pilfering travels frequently during the summer season, and therefore is not home for most of the day.” Snufkin simpered impishly as Sniff started hollering unintelligible exclamations as it clicked that he was had again. “Still, he always returns when sunset begins, goes to his treasury to admire his valuables, adds any new ones he stole if any to the hoard, tends to his pet, then has his supper before retiring to his room until morning the next day.”

“P-Pet?” Sniff whimpered.

“Don’t be too alarmed. When the Giant isn’t tending to her in the mornings and evenings, she’s always sleeping in her eyrie. Unless you actively seek to disturb her, she’ll give you no trouble. In fact, you wouldn’t even be able to do that because she’s so well hidden unless you’re actively looking for her.” Snufkin iterated.

Moomin released a deep breath. “That’s a relief.”

“The most important thing is that you take from the treasury while the Giant is asleep. That way, you won’t be rushed to do what you came for or fear being caught if you attempt to do so before he returns.” Snufkin cautioned.

“How long will it take for him to fall asleep? Mama and Papa will get worried if we’re gone too late.”

“Not long at all.” The mumrik held up his harmonica into view. “Just leave that to me.”

“Wonderful!” Moomin whooped. “There’s still some time until the sun sets. What shall we do until then?”

Snufkin shrugged. “Wait it out, I guess.”

So wait they did. Within half an hour, Sniff dozed off for a long nap, leaving Moomin alone to talk with Snufkin.

The young troll's eagerness to get to know the mumrik boy was almost palpable, but Moomin didn't care. He had never felt more mystified and entranced by a person in his life. It was starting to make him suspect Snufkin might have Fae or a different sort of otherworldly heritage after all!

The hours blurred together as he and Snufkin talked. He loved hearing the stories about Snufkin’s extraordinary ventures before his capture, wowed by every recounted detail, big and small. From burning signs and terrorizing park keepers (Moomin had no idea how wicked they really were!) to thrilling prison escapes and outrunning lawmen and criminals alike, to the ineffable views of lands far yonder and winning every standoff against the wildest storms, Snufkin had Moomin clinging to his every word.

How could he not?

Snufkin’s voice was blessed with an allure of which not even a siren’s song could compare. Be it the work of true magic or natural charms, the caged vagabond nevertheless snared Moomin under his spell without realizing. And the more Moomin learned about the resourceful, witty, daring traveler, its hold gripped ever tighter.

Moomin talked a fair bit himself, mainly sticking to telling Snufkin about his parents and close friends back home, but happily shared a few of his own tales at Snufkin‘s encouragement. That is to say he did so begrudgingly, as even recalling his more interesting escapades had Moomin feeling awfully inadequate. Much to his surprise, Snufkin was very impressed by the measly homeland ‘adventures’ from his younger years! What an honor that was! And Moomin only told them as they were!

…Of course, he _may_ have omitted the more embarrassing parts and embellished a few details here and there. Not that it was important whether or not Snufkin knew about those things. Or that telling a few little white lies mattered anyways since Sniff wasn’t awake to call him out on it.

It was ‘artistic license’ as Papa would say whenever anyone pointed out inconsistencies in his own narratives.

Snufkin was likewise just as intrigued with Moomin, only much better at being discreet about it. The young troll's stories had an almost infectious lightness to them, managing to brighten his spirits, if only for the moment. Getting to experience the novelty of listening to the exploits of someone else and learn more about them as a person (without wanting to punch them) was refreshing too. The subject matter still made him ache to be free, yet its sting felt less harsh than usual in the moment.

Where Snufkin found his respect for Moomin growing the most was in his consideration. There was never an imbalance during their talks or one-sided on Moomin’s part. He was an engaging conversationalist and storyteller, but was also a good listener and audience. Moomin gave Snufkin full liberties to talk and lead the discussion as long as he pleased, about whatever he wished. He innately knew when to take back the reins whenever Snufkin needed a break from speaking, but was always ready to give the floor back to Snufkin at any moment during his turn.

Another incredible discovery about his new acquaintance was that Moomin was someone who could appreciate both riveting conversation _and_ peaceful junctures where no words need be spoken at all to enjoy another’s companionship. Moomin didn’t insist they keep talking to fill the air when Snufkin voiced he wanted the quiet for a bit, and fully catered to Snufkin’s needs as he had with everything else thus far. He couldn’t remember the last time he experienced peak serenity obtained through the shared silence among pleasant company. The kind that transcended the tangible world, wherein one could briefly bond with the heavens themselves.

Conversely, it made Moomin's sudden interjection and Snufkin’s snap back to reality all the more jolting.

“You shouldn’t lie.” Moomin said quietly.

The seriousness of the statement was discombobulating as well. In fact, it put Snufkin rather on edge. _Was it possible he suspected–_

The boy cocked his head, face impassive. “And just what was it I lied about?”

“That you weren’t anything special. I’ve never met anyone like you, Snufkin. Someone as smart and talented and kind and wonderful like you is what I’d call very special. You tell great stories, you’re great to talk with and listen to, your music is the prettiest I’ve ever heard, there’s just too many things to list! Just… _wow_!” Moomin babbled adoringly. “But I’m willing to tell you them all if you want!”

“You don’t need to do that. Though I have to say, I don’t think I’ve heard anyone say those sorts of things about me before. Not many people have nice things to say about a tramp like me.” Snufkin brushed off.

“Well they don’t know what they’re talking about, Snufkin!” Moomin stressed. Snufkin almost dared say he sounded indignant. “If they bothered to get to know you better, they’d say all the same things I have! It’s their loss for missing out on getting to know the incredible person you are!”

Snufkin snorted rather derisively. “You shouldn’t lie either with all that flattery.”

“But I’m not.” Moomin spoke emphatically, eyes and ears drooping like a kicked puppy. The plainative manner in which he said it made guilt eat away at Snufkin even faster. “Why would I lie to you?”

Snufkin bowed his head. “Lots of people will say anything as a means to an end. Lavish you with honeyed words and pretend to like you just enough so you’ll give them what they want. Then once you do…they want nothing to do with you anymore and cast you aside.”

“That’s so–! That’s _horrible_! Terrible! Awful! People like that are among the worst of the worst! How could anybody do something like that, especially to someone like _you_!? Just– Auugh!! I wish I could prove that I don’t only like you because you’re willing to help us. Because it’d be nothing short of a blessing to even know you, let alone have the _privilege_ to be a friend of yours! I…I just don’t know how I could. Stupid magicked jar!” Moomin spat, kicking hard at the glass. It did a number on his toes, but Moomin didn’t so much as flinch at the pain. Save for the blood boiling beneath his fur, his body was numb to all else.

The fur on Snufkin's paws and tail stood on end at the intensity of Moomin's anger. He was certainly putting on quite a show about this. Snufkin wondered just how many times he'd be surprised by this strange Moomin fellow before it all came to an end.

“Stupid spells! Stupid Giant! You’re too cruel to keep Snufkin trapped like this!! And to all you stupid _jerks_ who double-crossed Snufkin’s trust like that, may Eduard the Booble and his big brother crush the lot of you and not pay for your funerals!!” Moomin ranted. “It’s not fair!”

Snufkin was truly dumbfounded. “Moomin…”

“But I _promise_ , Snufkin! I swear on my life and honor that I will find a way and set you free!” Moomin swore, looking the mumrik firmly in the eyes. “I’ve never broken a deal before, and I don’t plan to start now!”

 _Such a vibrant blue_ , Snufkin observed as his own sepia pools transfixed on Moomin’s gaze, many thoughts and emotions running rampant at once. It only hurt more how minus the rascality…Moomin’s eyes possessed the same warmth his father’s did.

A crushing pit in his stomach halted his ruminations. How long had it been since he had even _seen_ his father's eyes last? Snufkin bit down on his tongue to suppress the longing and worrying thoughts. It wouldn't do him any good to think of such things when he was already in knots trying to navigate the other peculiarities of this interaction.

“I have an idea!” Moomin exclaimed suddenly, climbing up to the lid on the top of the jar.

“The lid’s enchanted just like the rest of the jar, you know.” Snufkin remarked drolly.

“I know that. But the air holes are up here, and that’s how I can give this to you!”

Moomin then seated himself on the lid, digging through his smaller bag in search of something. The air holes weren’t big enough for either of them to fit through, but were just right for slipping a smaller item inside the space once he found it. “Catch!”

Snufkin shed his hat and caught the item in it, not trusting his paws. As he pulled it out from inside his hat’s crown to inspect it, he was thankful he did. “A seashell?”

It was a beautiful specimen; half of a large scallop, from the looks of it. Roughly the size of both his paws put together, gleaming a sleek rosy pink, and most uniquely, was near-perfectly shaped like a heart. Snufkin handled it delicately so not to chance damaging it.

“A gift from my friend Snorkmaiden. This was the first gift she gave me so many years ago when we first became friends, and it’s one of my most prized possessions that I carry with me at all times. I couldn’t _bear_ it if I lost it! And I’d do anything to get it back!” Moomin explained softly. “I know it’s hardly my life and freedom, but it’s very, _very_ important to me…and it’s only fair you’re not the only one with something major to lose with our deal.”

Snufkin stared into the shell's reflective face, and then looked up towards the lid, trying to process why Moomin would do something like this. It was an impressive long con…quite frankly, it was getting rather ridiculous. Too ridiculous to be true. … _Or was it too absurd to NOT be true?_

Feelings swarmed like a torrent within Snufkin but coping with them would have to wait. His eyes flew open as he suddenly registered the telltale creak of the front door opening in the distance and the ground-shaking approach of footsteps!

“That’s him. Both of you hide! And don’t come out until I say so!” Snufkin ordered.

Moomin nodded in understanding and quickly scooped Sniff up into a standing position, hurrying along to a hiding spot. Sniff blinked his eyes open in a dreamy haze. "Moomin wh–?"

Moomin quickly covered Sniff's mouth with his paw, shushing him not to reveal their whereabouts. Sniff's eyes widened in surprise and his large ears twitched as he too heard the noise of the advancing footfalls, fear quickly pushing him to wakefulness as the Giant finally entered the room.

It was one thing to hear that the Giant was taller than forty men, but to see him in person was an entirely different experience. The Giant, true to others of his ilk, was _massive_. Both in height and around the middle. It was a wonder the tattered tunic and pants he wore stayed in one piece. The rags left his feet and arms largely exposed, where Moomin could see dark hair coating his skin matching the greasy clumps on his head. His lifeless grey eyes pierced Moomin’s very soul, shuddering violently as he spotted a vicious jagged scar on his left side, trailing from his jawline to his neck. Just as the Witch described.

“You’re back a bit early today.” Snufkin spoke up. He only received a grunt in response. “Bring home any new plundered riches from the world below without a care for the anguish you cause their rightful owners?”

"What have I told you about giving me lip, boy?" the Giant said as he crossed the room.

Snufkin folded his arms behind his head, sporting a mirthful smirk as followed him with his eyes. "Was it really that bad? Was there just nothing to take or did you manage to lose out on something particular?"

The Giant shot him a look and Snufkin's arms came down, shuffling to brace himself against the side of the jar as best he could as the Giant drew closer.

"Canaries shouldn't be so nosy about affairs that aren’t their place,” the Giant growled lowly. “and they _certainly_ shouldn't sing out of turn."

Snufkin shoved his hands in his pocket and pulled out his harmonica with haste, pushing himself off the jar wall and into a standing position. "Would you like for me to play for you then?"

The Giant eyed him suspiciously. "You never cave that easily. What's your angle?" His look grew harder. "You're not planning something, are you? I thought you learned your lesson about that after the last time you had to be disciplined."

Snufkin trembled slightly before he shook his head. "No! No, of course not! It's as you said: canaries need to know their place. That’s why I'm here…aren’t I?"

Moomin’s fur bristled, his tail lightly thrashing and snout flaring harshly at the sight. Thankfully, the Giant made a faint approving sound and withdrew his proximity from the jar before Moomin could do something reckless.

“If you’re so eager, get on with it then.” the Giant muttered with a yawn, crawling into his bed. “Something slow and pretty like, not one of those sad ones you keep playing.”

Snufkin gave a mocking bow when the Giant’s back was turned. “As you wish.”

As the Giant got settled, Snufkin brought his harmonica to his lips and played a slow, soothing tune. It was happy, in a way, but also sad at the same time. Luckily, the Giant gave no objections and let his eyes droop closed. Snufkin continued to play long after it appeared the Giant had drifted off, and Moomin held Sniff in place as the music still rang in the walls per Snufkin’s orders. Trilling the last note for good measure, the song concluded and Snufkin signaled the other two to come out of hiding.

“He’s asleep now. Get going but don’t be too loud. He’s a deep sleeper, but I wouldn’t tempt fate. Remember my instructions.” Snufkin whispered, leaving no room for further discussion.

“Thank you, Snufkin. I’m sorry again I can’t do anything for you now, but I will be back! You will be free again!” Moomin vowed.

Snufkin managed a weak smile for appearances and returned the wave goodbye as Moomin hurried down the nightstand to catch up with his companion, who had gone ahead without him. It only fell once the pair completely disappeared from his sight. Alone again, his inner turmoil vocalized itself louder.

Much like the temptations of the treasury he warned the two to watch for, he too had his own to beware lest he be made a fool of again. He would never fall for any more tricks or empty promises. All words pertaining to regaining his freedom were nothing but lies.

So why did he waver?

Why could he not dismiss Moomin as he had everyone else who said those same tantalizing words in the past? Why did he give in?

As he curled up at the bottom of the jar to retire to bed himself for the night, his wonderings on Moomin’s parting words followed into his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like! Leave a comment of what you think!
> 
> Be sure to check out Jir’s (newly completed as of this upload) story “To Eat Among Trolls” too!


	6. The Treasury, the Hat, and the Broomstick

Moomin caught up with Sniff easily and together made their way down the second hall as per Snufkin’s instructions. The darker environment from the waning daylight made the daunting cobblestone walls even scarier to traipse. Moomin allowed Sniff to stick close to ease his fears, but Moomin couldn’t help but glance behind him towards the previous room. Even with the distance between them now, he still found himself caught up in his thoughts about poor Snufkin.

He wasn’t sure just how he would free Snufkin from all those trapping magicks, but he certainly was going to do something about it. He would not let the mumrik boy’s grim foretelling of wasting away come to pass!

Snufkin was far too kind and unique to be kept here for the Giant’s selfish gain. The traveller deserved his freedom. He was a moomintroll of his word and he made a promise to set him free! He never breaks a promise!  
  
Sniff caught Moomin’s moony, distant gaze and gave a frown. “Moomin, are you still thinking about him? It’s dangerous to be distracted like that! What if the giant woke up again?”  
  
Moomin broke from his thoughts at his friend’s worried tone. “Well yes, but I can’t help it! He needs our help!”

“And so does Moominvalley.” Sniff pointed out. “That should be the more important thing, Moomin. We don’t need to trouble ourselves with that jerk!”

“You hush! Snufkin is wonderful person!”

Sniff folded his arms. “I don’t see what's so wonderful about a tricky mumrik!”

Moomin looked indignant. “He’s not tricky! I think he’s very clever and interesting. You were taking a nap, so you missed out on getting to know him better.”

“What could you two have talked about that was that insightful?...” Sniff asked before shaking his head. “Still, you’ve been like this ever since we first met the guy! Why are you acting all weird?”

Moomin felt a flutter of embarrassment in his chest and quickly turned aside. “Oh! Hey, look! I think that’s the door to the treasure room! Right where Snufkin said!”

The subject was thankfully dropped as Sniff’s attention was pulled by the magic word to quicken his pace.

Other than one brief stop for a snack, the remainder of the walk to their destination was uneventful.

The two friends made their way under the door and into the grand treasury. The room was gigantic. It wasn’t saying much given each room in the Giant’s abode left the boys ever so small, but this one was large even for a giant’s home.

A wild array of treasure of all kinds overflowed from the chamber in towering heaps. There were coins, jewels, bars, and bills as well as an assortment of unique and fantastic material goods. Riches from all over the world, some that the boys recognized, some never before seen. There were even others still they never even knew existed! It was extraordinary to behold! Moomin scanned around and found Snufkin had been quite right in its deceptive organization.

He went to the right side and unhooked his bag to start filling it with the bulk treasure. He expected to see Sniff doing the same, but found the other boy wandering towards the left.  
  
“Sniff!” Moomin hissed in a harsh whisper which Sniff thankfully heard. “Don’t even think about it! Snufkin said to take only what we need from these areas!”  
  
“Oh _fine_!” Sniff pouted, muttering under his breath ‘Naggy-Niggler’ among other things Moomin couldn’t make out.  
  
He made no further argument, however, and joined Moomin in taking treasures from the right side. He moved slower in his task, as he would often stop to admire the treasures before filling the bag.

When his bag was as full as he could get it, Moomin strapped it up tight and crossed to where the magic items were kept. Among the trove, Moomin saw beautifully engraved swords, magical wands, strange cloaks, runes, charms, jars of mystery, mystic tomes, peculiar plants and amulets of various enchantments to only list a few. Not all the items were pleasing to the eye, but Moomin knew not to be fooled. Magic was tricky and widely varied in nature, not could it be ascertained at a glance whether it be a blessing or a curse.

Nevertheless, it was most difficult to resist the temptation of taking a closer look. They fascinated Moomin more than any regular nugget of gold or precious stone. All treasure had a story to tell, but those rooted in magic told the best ones, in Moomin’s opinion.

Eventually though, Moomin’s eyes locked onto what he had been looking for.

A lovely besom, sporting a weathered, handcrafted hazelwood handle, with scraggly birch bristles and straw for the head, bound in place with withy bindings and simple wooden dowel. Moomintroll reached down to grab it, careful not to disturb any of the other treasures nearby. As his hand hovered over the broom, moments from picking it up, it suddenly rose from the pile!

Moomintroll gave a gasp of surprise and delight seeing the broom was indeed enchanted for flight. He could hardly believe his luck when he additionally noticed the top hat sitting right next to it.

Moomin examined the elegant chapeau with avid interest, trailing his fingertips across the dark velveteen material and the smooth perse ribbon. It almost uncannily resembled his father’s signature top hat in appearance, bar its larger size, finer quality and sharper colors. A very fine and dapper Hat, indeed. What also set it apart from his father’s hat was its presence. Where Moominpappa’s top hat gave off an air of self-importance, this one exuded an aura of _power_. There was no doubt that this Hat was magical in nature.

_Just toss them inside the hat, and it will help you._

Moomin dug into one of his pockets for the scraps left over from their snack, and dropped them inside the Hat. At first nothing happened, then the scraps glowed a bright pink hue. Moomin watched in awe as the scraps transformed, sublimating into puffy, pink clouds which billowed out of the hat like chimney smoke.

“Oh wow! That’s incredible!” Moomin looked to the clouds with wonder.

Setting the Hat back down in its place, Moomintroll pulled down one of the pink clouds and patted its surface. Much like the ones outside which the castle sat upon, these clouds were solid enough to not dissipate under his touch.

Carefully, Moomintroll pulled himself onto the cloud and he beamed as it started floating up a bit higher.

“Look, Sniff! You can ride on them like a magic carpet!” Moomin bubbled.  
  
Sniff gazed up at the clouds, looking deeper in thought than Moomin had ever seen him.  
  
Before he could think to ask about it, Sniff was pulling some rope from his pack and bounded a few clouds together as one would leash horses or cattle.  
  
“Look, Moomin! We can use this now to carry even _more_ treasure!” Sniff said, patting the cloud nearest to him to demonstrate.  
  
Moomintroll decided not to question the physics of it. That was something best left to scientists and philosophers. Or the magic practitioners, in this case. He was content with just the knowledge that while crazy, Sniff’s idea was both brilliant and more importantly worked as he helped Sniff load as much of the gathered riches as they could onto the clouds that the clouds could manage.

“I think that about does it.” Moomin panted, checking the knots to be sure the treasure and broom were properly secured. He climbed onto the lone empty cloud and helped Sniff up onto it too. It took a bit of tricky trial and error, but they managed to maneuver the cloud barge out the window and without alerting the Giant.  
  
As the pair floated their way out and back to the world below, thankful to avoid another stressful climb, Moomin found himself feeling quite proud. Laiden with treasure, they would be able to trade with the other villages and ensure Moominvalley’s people would survive the drought; that much was certain now.  
  
He wondered, however, how the new elements to his quest would shape up. Would returning the broom and getting the magic favour be enough to solve things?

If he made things right for Moominvalley with just that, how would he justify going back to fulfill his promise and avoid making a liar of himself? Not only a liar, but a cheat too. The very idea sickened Moomin.

He tried to put that out of his mind, they had been successful! The treasure was theirs and they had escaped with their lives. He would get another chance to settle things up in the castle, he’d make sure of it.

He _had_ promised after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R


	7. The Next Steps and Little Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jir is a godsend. This chapter never would’ve gotten done without her. Enjoy :D  
> -Furornocturna

It was dark when the boys returned to the bottom of the beanstalk. Most everyone had turned in for the night, but a few had remained to await the boys' hopeful return. Among them, of course, was Moominpappa, who was grateful for their safe return.

Moomin decided they shouldn’t make a fuss just yet, they could deal with everything else after a well-deserved sleep. They brought the treasure back to Moominhouse where it could be kept safe until the morning. Sniff stayed at Moominhouse in the guestroom and the pair slipped easily into sleep.

* * *

The next morning, the citizens of Moominvalley were overjoyed by the good fortune that the boys had returned, laden with treasure. Working together, Hodgkins, the Snork, and the Moomin parents divided things up until each resident had a fair share to provide for themselves.

The beans and the influx of treasure had also brought hope back to the valley. It ensured that families could acquire and trade for other provisions, leaving very little doubt that the heatwave would be everyone’s undoing.

Things were indeed looking up, but there was still more to be done.

Moomin’s quest was not complete.

It would not be complete until he fulfilled all his promises and Moominvalley was returned to its full former glory, with all loose ends tied. Nor would Moomin be content until he did.

Starting with his remaining business with the Witch. 

* * *

Moomin ran to the Witch’s cottage as fast as he could. He found his way through the Forest of Witches much easier this time around.

“I’ve returned, ma’am! You were right about the treasury! I was able to bring home plenty of riches to help my family and the rest of the valley! And I also found your broom!” Moomin announced, carefully presenting the broomstick in question.

“My broomstick! You’ve actually done it!” the Witch exclaimed, snatching it greedily from the young troll’s hands. “How I’ve missed you, my darling besom! Once again, we’ll be able to fly among the skies and stars!”

“Grandma…” Alicia said expectantly, hands on her hips.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, young troll.” the elder spoke. “And a deal’s a deal. I will grant you one more magic favor in return.”

Moomin brightened excitedly.

“Is there anything your magic can do to bring the life back to Moominvalley?” he asked, without hesitation. However, he balked slightly as it only dawned on the troll once the words were out that if he _did_ restore the valley, what excuse would he have to return for poor Snufkin?

Luckily for Moomin, he didn’t have to amend his statement as the Witch didn’t answer in the affirmative. In fact, she didn’t answer at all, her expression thoughtful and frustrated.

“Magical favor or no, some things are too great an ask, even for a Witch as powerful as me,” she uttered through a cloud of discontent.

“Oh. I’m so sorry...it was a foolish wish in the first place...I’m sorry to upset you, Mrs Witch, I’ll...I’ll leave.”

Right as he took a step towards the door, Moomin felt his body freeze in place.

“As I said, though it pains me to admit, that sort of feat is beyond my power,” the Witch started before turning to face Moomin. “but not that of _the Hobgoblin_.”

“The Hobgoblin! Oh wow!” he gasped, gesticulating wildly once the magic user unfroze him again. “The one who rides a black panther through the sky, travelling the world and the universe? I’ve heard stories of him, but he's really real?”

“Of course he is! Any magic user worth their salt is aware of other practitioners of the trade, especially one as old and powerful as the mighty Hobgoblin!” the Witch tsked.

“He’d be able to restore Moominvalley, couldn’t he?”

“That’s what I said!” the Witch snapped.

“Then might I instead use my favor for you to summon the Hobgoblin here?”

“You certainly could, and it is within my powers to accomplish. Are you certain that’s what you want to use your favor for? The Hobgoblin is a far more fickle fellow than I. Even if I summon him here, I cannot guarantee he will help.”

Moomin considered this a moment. Would it be worth the risk to waste his wish summoning the Hobgoblin when he might not even agree to save the valley? But then what else could he really ask of the Witch if not this?

“I won’t know unless I ask him myself.”

The Witch sighed. “Ah, very well. Now that I have my broomstick back, such a favor will take nowhere near as long. At the soonest, he may arrive by sunrise tomorrow, or it may take a few days at most for him to arrive. I’ll get a message delivered to you when I know for sure, but no pestering me until then, got it?”

“I understand. Thank you again for all your help.”

Moomin wished them goodbye and turned to leave, but was stopped by Alicia.

“Grandma! Aren’t you forgetting something else?” she pressed.

“Fine, fine. Before you go, we also return this to you.” the Witch grumbled.

She handed Moomin a small black box. Naturally curious, the young troll opened it. His heart jumped and his lungs cinched, gasping with incredulity at the contents inside.

“My lucky find! I’m very grateful, but why?”

The Witch rolled her eyes with a groan. “Alicia wouldn’t stop pestering me over it. Said that I was being ‘too mean’ for making you trade it for my help, pah! But, since you did return my broom and I don’t have any true need for it, I see no harm in giving it back.”

“That’s a very lucky find indeed, Moomin!” Alicia said. “That’s a rare Lover’s pearl. It’ll be another thousand years before you could find another like it! Something that precious should belong in the hands of its finder. I also convinced Grandma to help me add a few things as well!”

Moomin gasped as he lifted the pearl from the box to get a better look. The jewel had been fashioned into a [necklace](https://www.etsy.com/listing/472110927/mens-leather-necklace-leather-and-pearls?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=mens+pearl+necklace&ref=sr_gallery-1-34&col=1#), with a leather cord and an incomplete circle metal decoration encompassing around the centrepiece. A simple yet elegant design. “You both really made this?”

Alicia nodded. “Yep! It’s also got tons of protective spells and blessings to help you find your way if you’re ever lost, grant you good health, and safety from any dangers you may encounter on your travels!”

“It’s beautiful! Thank you! Thank you both!” Moomin raved, rushing at Alicia for a hug then grasping the Witch’s hands in an enthusiastic handshake.

“Yes, yes, enough already!” the Witch muttered with half-hearted irritance, shooing him away. “Off with you now! I can’t do my magic with prying eyes!”

Moomin said his last farewells and skipped home, laughing all the way.

* * *

The day after, the valley insisted on throwing a party for the two boys. Sniff basked in the attention and glory, retelling the story to small groups, each time his deeds and involvement got grander and Moomin’s role diminished. Moomin on the other paw was not as invested. Something that surprised him given his excitement to brave an adventure and all the perks that came with it, but it didn’t feel right to celebrate when he was not finished with his quest.

Still, he went along with it, if for nothing else than to bide the time until the Hobgoblin appeared. Alicia had left a letter early that morning that her grandmother’s summons were successful, and the Hobgoblin would arrive tomorrow morning. Though thrilled the Witch was able to contact him so soon, it seemed time had chosen to drag itself unpleasantly slowly as Moomin anticipated the next morning.

The sooner he could get on with his quest again, the sooner he could finish it. Moominvalley would be restored, everyone in it would be happy, and Snufkin won’t have to wait too terribly long to be set free.

Oh, there he goes again.

It seemed everything would remind him of Snufkin in some shape or form. Both for good and for bad. Good in that he loved all the wonderful memories and reminders of the most remarkable person he’d ever met, and bad in how Snufkin was still a prisoner, still depending on him to free him, yet he was here at a party. Snufkin had no such luxury to attend parties or go anywhere for that matter.

He wondered if Snufkin even liked parties. From what they’d chatted about the previous day he seemed like quite the solitary soul. If he did invite him to a party once free, would Snufkin accept? He wondered if it mattered, frankly, he’d be just as happy to abandon a party and accompany Snufkin into the woods if he’d let him.

It suddenly dawned on Moomin just what an important part of their adventure Snufkin had been and he worried that in all the storytelling he might’ve been mentioned.

 _Sniff better have kept his mouth shut,_ Moomin mumbled to himself.

He hoped he could trust Sniff with it. Keeping the vagabond out of things felt so important he had even made him swear their childhood secret oath to show just how serious he was!

_‘May the ground swallow me up, may old hags rattle my dry bones, and may I nevermore eat desserts if I don't guard this secret with my life!’_

Sniff could be daft, but he never broke the secret oath. He loved dessert too much to risk suffering the terrible consequences of never eating it again if he went against his word!

Still, he spied on the younger boy frequently just to be certain. Other than grossly confusing the details of his part in the ordeal, Sniff was tight-lipped. Seeing how both his secret was safe and how proud Muddler and Fuzzy were for their son, Moomin left it alone.

Where the party’s discussion wasn’t about their adventure, it was about the riches and the survival of Moominvalley. Those who didn’t care to debate and discuss indulged in food and music that had been set up in celebration.

Moomin let himself sigh as he considered his wandering thoughts. He didn’t think he’d ever thought about one person so much in his life and it was becoming a bit worrisome. He spotted Moominpappa nearby, making his way across the party. Despite himself, Moomin approached his father, though he had to keep walking in order to not be left behind.

“Papa, can I talk to you?”

“Hm? Yes? What is it?” Moominpappa didn’t really look away, distracted as he rushed about the party.

“Well, have you ever gotten any weird feelings about anyone?”

“When I met shifty characters, yes. It happens a lot on travels. Best to just go with your gut and avoid them.”

“O-Oh, um, not that kind of weird, Papa…” Moomin corrected, shuffling his paws uncertainly.

“Well, what kind then?”

“The um, the kind where you can’t stop thinking about them?” he admitted.

Moominpappa suddenly turned and gave a grin and a soft slap on the back.

“Ah! You’re in love, my boy!” he said, much too loud for Moomin’s comfort. “Nothing weird about that at all really,” he said before turning once more and continuing on his way.

Moomin was much too embarrassed to follow. 

* * *

After recovering from the shameful death brought upon by Moominpappa’s outburst, Moomin was much more careful about asking Snorkmaiden her opinion. He had written her a note and put it on a plate covered in beets. He handed it to Sniff and asked him to bring it to Snorkmaiden, knowing he wouldn’t pinch from the plate. He hated beets more than anything.

As the party dragged into the evening, he had made his way to the foot of the Lonely Mountains, getting there early so it didn’t look like he and Snorkmaiden had gone off together. When she finally arrived, she was very tart about it all.

“Why all the secrecy?”

“We don’t need any more annoying whispers than we already have, don’t we?” Moomin said sheepishly.

“Right, now spill!” she huffed playfully with an eye roll. “What’s so important that you needed to tell me so late at night and hidden all the way up in the Lonely Mountains?”

Moomin gave a snort but didn’t comment. “It’s really good news! And you’re the only one I trust to share this information with right now.”

Now greatly more interested, Snorkmaiden listened intently as Moomin recounted his meeting with the Witch, returning her broom, and the coming arrival of the Hobgoblin before remembering his other news.

“The Witch gave me something else when I visited her again!” He held up the pearl for Snorkmaiden to see in the evening light.

“Your Lucky Find?! She actually gave it back to you??”

Moomin nodded brightly. “Yes! And look! Her granddaughter, Alicia, made it into a necklace and added some helpful spells to it too!”

“Oh Moomin, it’s beautiful! Your special someone will love it even more when you give it to them now!” she asserted, marvelling the jewelry piece.

Moomin smoked softly. “I hope so…Snorkmaiden? There’s...something else I wanted to tell you, and maybe ask about too...”

“Oh? What’s that, Moomin?”

“Well, when I was on my adventure…”

“Yeah?” Snorkmaiden prompted as he trailed off.

“At the Giant’s Keep?”

“…Yes?” she pressed.

“I-…met this _boy–_ ”

“Oh wow! A boy? Tell me everything!” Snorkmaiden’s eyes were wide with excitement for her dear friend.

“Oh, where do I begin?” Moomin whistled. “He’s so smart, and fun–”

“Handsome?” she offered teasingly.

“BEAUTIFUL!” Moomin exclaimed. “He’s absolutely GORGEOUS! Oh Snorkmaiden, I can’t even _believe_ how pretty he is! He’s got these eyes that just glow, and has such lovely hair and fur, and his _smile_?!”

Snorkmaiden bit down hard on her fists to keep from laughing as Moomin let out the biggest, swooning sigh she’d ever heard in her life.

“But he also tells such wonderful stories and plays the prettiest music you’ve ever heard! I’ve never met a more gifted musician or a more interesting person in all my life!”

“Oh Moomin, you remind me so much of my own thoughts…” Snorkmaiden sighed dreamily.

“Snorkmaiden…are you saying you’ve been thinking of somebody like this?”

“I think so!”

“How wonderful!” Moomintroll gave a clap of his paws and a large grin. “Come on! Tell me about them!”

“Well…this person is very pretty. They have lovely grey eyes and long red hair like fire that dances in the wind like the waves in the ocean.”

Moomin could only think of one person in the whole valley with such long red hair that Snorkmaiden might have affections for.

“No way! You couldn’t mean Alicia, could you?”

Snorkmaiden looked away bashfully. “I do,” she admitted, holding her flushed cheeks in her paws.

“That’s wonderful, Snorkmaiden! I hope things turn out!” he beamed.

Snorkmaiden nods. “I hope things turn out for you and this boy as well!”

Moomin freeze and got flustered. “O-Oh, no! No, it’s _nothing_ like that…”

“What? But the way you were talking about him–”

“Yes, well, it’s all true, but…that doesn’t mean I meant–”

“Oh, come now! You need to go for it, Moomin!”

“Really, Snorkmaiden! There’s nothing to go for!” he insisted.

“And if you did, then perhaps Mrs Fillyjonk will finally have some proof that there’s no room for me as your partner!” Snorkmaiden carried on. “Besides, Moomin, this boy seems to make you ever so happy! Really, you deserve to see something like this through!” She took his paws in hers and gave her a fond smile.

Moomin could only give a small sigh and pull his paws away.

“Thank you for listening, Snorkmaiden. It means a lot to me. I’ve said my piece though, so let’s just head home before anyone has a chance to see us together, yes?”

With that, Moomin let Snorkmaiden start her walk first, following shortly after at a distance so nobody would suspect they were walking together.

* * *

When Moomin returned after seeing Snorkmaiden home, he caught the bright blue eyes of the Joxter across the way. He jogged up to the old mumrik.

“Hello, Mr Joxter! Why weren’t you at the party earlier? I don’t think I saw you all day, in fact.”

The Joxter gave an easy grin. “Oh I was there, I assure you.”

“You were?! I didn’t see you at all! No one mentioned you either!”

“That was the idea.” The Joxter closed his eyes as he spoke. “Crashing parties is good fun, but not when there’s no heart in it. I swiped some mead and cider, then returned to my spot.”

Moomin frowned. The Joxter was joined at the hip with the bottle. Papa spoke of how much his friend loved tobacco and his pipe on his adventures in his youth, but never a fondness for alcohol. Coffee had been Joxter’s drink of choice.

From the way the elder mumrik guzzled ale by the keg the last two months, many would jump to disagree with that claim. Yet, Moomin was prone to do what most weren't privy to do naturally, and looked past the surface. The Joxter didn’t drink with any light in his eyes, no gaiety to enjoy the scene as most adults Moomin knew did at social gatherings. He never savored the taste.

Moomin was young but was not naïve to all things in the strange ways of adults. He knew the purpose for why Joxter drank. But what had him hurting so badly he wouldn’t speak a word to anyone and drowned in the mind-numbing powers of ale so he’d pass out?

“Come now, boy-o. You have the look. What’s weighing on your mind?”

“A lot of things,” Moomin replied honestly.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Anything to do with this old tramp?”

“It’s not my place. If you want to talk about it, then it’s your choice.”

“And you’re a kind troll for such thoughtfulness, but you still worry.” Joxter drawled.

“I do. It seems all I can do recently...that and think I suppose.” Moomin spoke.

“Think about what?”

“My quest, I guess?”

Joxter hummed. “What’s got you thinking so hard about that?”

“It’s different than I thought it’d be.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, not at all. I guess it’s just hit me what the stakes are really like in bigger adventures. What’s all on the line for all those heroes in the stories on their quests.” Moomin said, face in his paws.

Joxter flashed his fangs in a half-hearted smirk. “They do romanticize the finer aspects, don’t they?”

“It’s terrifying. I don’t want to let anyone down. Moominvalley can’t be a wasteland forever, but what if I’m not enough?”

The Joxter thrummed his claws against the glass of his bottle. “Well, I don’t think you should worry too much. The Hobgoblin should be able to handle this much.”

“How do you know about the Hobgoblin coming??” Moomin asked, dumbfounded.

“Oh, I have my ways about me.” The Joxter said mildly, tail flicking in amusement.

Moomin gave a sigh. “Well, even if the Hobgoblin _does_ come, it’s no guarantee he’ll help out. What do I do then?”

The younger boy stared at the Joxter owlishly, his blue eyes meeting the mumrik’s own as the latter faced him pointedly.

“You’ll find that little is impossible to stop us when motivated by those we love…”

The mumrik stiffened as he processed the words he had just spoken and Moomin watched as he suddenly folded in on himself until he was on the ground, knees raised to his chest and crying fitfully into his paws.

_“Tove snälla kan du förlåta mig!!”_

Moomin quickly made his way to the Joxter’s side and tried to coax him, asking what was the matter, but the Joxter ignored him and continued to sob.

Moomin stayed with Joxter until he fell asleep, wordlessly rubbing his back in comfort. He only left after moving the vagabond to a cozier resting spot of the blankets Moominmamma provided and tucked him in underneath his favorite of the bunch.

His heart bled more as the whimpers from the Joxter in his sleep followed him home. 

* * *

Moomin stumbled in through the door of Moominhouse. The events of his adventure were nothing compared to the weight he felt now after so many charged conversations and emotional curveballs.

“Moomin! There you are! You’re never out this late without telling Papa or me.” Moominmamma fussed.

“Sorry to worry you, Mama.” Moomin sighed. “I think I upset Mr Joxter somehow, so I was staying with him to be sure he was alright.”

“Oh dear, you haven’t any idea what brought that about?...” she asked.

“Well…” Moomin stared down at his tired feet. “I made him remember something. Something… _painful_. It was my fault. I couldn’t leave him alone like that.”

“Oh, Moomin, dear, I know you didn’t mean to. The Joxter is in a very fragile and unpredictable place right now,” she assured.

Moomin gave a small nod but felt bad anyway. He thought back to all his talks today and realized he still wasn’t any closer to finding the answer he thinks he had been looking for. He glanced to his mother, who watched him with concern.

“Mama, can you tell me again about ‘special someones’?”

Momminmamma nodded and gestured for them to sit at the table.

“Well dear, typically when moomins fancy another they try to help that person feel comfortable and safe, well provided for. It’s normal to want to give gifts to somebody you care about, especially things like flowers or food you’ve made.” Moominmamma explained. “The most important gifts are the ones you give for an engagement. They’re very special, tied to the giver and representative of the love you have for your beloved.”

Moomin listened and thought about it deeply. 

“What did Papa give you?” he found himself asking.

Moominmamma gave a fond smile. “Oh it was quite lovely. He gave me a rock.”

Moomin blinked in surprise. “… _A rock_??”

“Yes, but not just _any_ rock, I suppose. It was composed mostly of shells and smoothed by the waves.” she explained. “And your father said to me that much like the sea battered shells, that I was his rock. It was very sweet.”

Moomin gave a small nod of understanding. He wondered if he too would pull off such a grand and romantic gesture as his father...the idea left him feeling a bit lost.

Moominmamma noticed the look in his eye and smiled kindly. “Is there a particular reason you wanted to know, dear?”

Moomin looked down bashfully. “Uhhhhh…well. Perhaps…?”

Moominmamma nodded, knowing her son well enough not to pry if he wouldn’t admit it freely.

“Well dear, the most important thing to remember is to be caring and open. Your special someone is a unique individual and there’s no telling what things make them feel safe and comfortable, but you’ll only know if you’re patient and understanding.”

Moomin nodded in agreement. His mother always knew just what to say, it seemed. He couldn’t help it as a sudden yawn overtook him.

“Heading off to bed now, dear?”

Moomin nodded and rose. “Yes, I think I shall. Goodnight, Mama. I love you.”

“Goodnight dear, I love you too.”

Moomin went up to his room and unceremoniously flopped to his bed. His thoughts were sluggish, but before he drifted to sleep he thought again of the morning’s promise. Would the Hobgoblin restore Moominvalley? And if he did, what excuse could he make to climb the beanstalk once more?

No matter what the morning would bring, he’d return to Snufkin.

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the hyperlink is fixed. The necklace looks like that style, but the pearl is bigger.
> 
> Drop a comment what you think!


	8. The Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Jir's friend Angus, empressarcana, and The Major Gaycana for all your assistance with the subject of Tarot and your help in being able to incorporate it into this chapter!
> 
> I really hope we did it justice, but as always, enjoy!

When Moomin left the Giant’s quarters, Snufkin drifted into a restless sleep. He had yet to have a pleasant night as a prisoner, but that night was particularly fitful. Far too much was on his mind, and the night far too short.

Rising with the sun the morning after was nothing new for Snufkin. It was something that always came naturally to him. It was also another thing he came to resent since becoming a prisoner who never got a good night’s rest.

With a quiet huff, he contemplated on how to pass the hours by today. To divert his mind from his woes, from pining for his _laisser-aller_ and the _waldeinsamkeit_ he dearly missed. Yet another thing having grown into a more harrowing task thanks to his cruel predicament.

Instinctively, he hugged his arms to his chest, flinching at an unfamiliar firmness as he held his paws at his collar. Snufkin brought them out again, to realize he was clutching a pink heart-shaped shell.

So the other day really _did_ happen.

It was so surreal, he almost believed it a waking dream. However, he never dreamed here. There were no dreams to be had in an unending nightmare. Only more nightmares.

At the same time, it was too good to possibly be real. Just what was it then if it was neither?

Realizing he had held the shell as he slept, Snufkin examined the shell for damages. He breathed easier finding none, and couldn’t help but admire the finer details of the scallop shell. The light rosy hue, the sleek nacreous inside contrasting with the rougher exterior, it was a beautiful item to gift to another. It was easy to see why it was dear possession of Moomin’s.

Snufkin just couldn’t decide what to make of it.

His ponderings were interrupted as his warden awoke to greet the day.

The shell was quickly tucked into his pocket, but he’d been too suspicious in his movements he supposed, the Giant shot him a hard look.  
  
“What’re you doing there, boy? Not making another foolish escape attempt are you? It’ll just end like all the others you know.” 

“No, of course not. Nothing interesting happens around here and nothing I do would change where I am.” he conceded. 

“Right you are, little bird. So don’t waste your time and energy.” 

Snufkin moved across the jar to the side facing the Giant to look at him. “And what is it you plan to do for today?” 

“Don’t sound so eager to be rid of me.” the Giant leered. “I’m overdue to replenish my supply of bones to make my bread. Keep your eyes and ears sharp for any intruders and sound the alarm when I’m back like a good little warbler.” 

Snufkin folded his arms, huffily. “Fine. Have fun ruining people’s lives.”  
  
“Perhaps I’ll bring back somebody you know this time.” the Giant laughed. “Though I can’t say they’ll even remember who you are! Lives are better worth living not thinking about someone like you.”

Snufkin flinched and clutched his arms tighter.

“Just play your music and keep any thieves distracted, and think about how in their final moments, they’ll curse your name for luring them with that pretty smile of yours to straight to their deaths!” the Giant laughed cruelly.

His words always stirred up the most awful emotions in the young mumrik, but Snufkin wisely held his tongue. It was only once the Giant left the Keep and was enough of a distance away to where the skies no longer shook from his footsteps, that Snufkin unleashed his frustrations forthrightly. He cried, he screamed his throat raw, and vented everything he was holding back uselessly against the caging glass until he exhausted all his energy.

From the dreadful moment he was first brought to the Giant’s Keep, Snufkin wanted out.

Snufkin’s heart was so tied to the wild, open spaces that desperation had seeped down to his very core. He had been defiant at first, seeking every opportunity to break the glass, get free, or disrespect the giant, but each time his fight would be met with harsh penalties. The boy shuddered at the anguishing memories of shaken jars and days on end spent in claustrophobic darkness.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks blurred into months. By then, Snufkin had come to the sobering realization of just how _useless_ it all was...

Still, mumriks were not meant for enclosed spaces. It went against all basic essentials to his nature!

It had lead him to being very trusting at the start. Adventurers from down below had promised to free him before, and even though he had felt the telltale sense of a liar, he had ignored the feeling. He had wanted to hope. He wanted to hope and was met only with regret for being so foolish, for not trusting his inherited sense. His Caveats.

No matter how hopeful he wanted to be, it never panned out. He was still here, in this jar for all the promises he’d been made. Most didn’t even try, just left him and tried to leave with whatever they had come here for. It left Snufkin with the bitter feeling of betrayal, which after so many times festered within him, hardening his heart to their fates and compelling a twisted sense of retribution when he alerted the Giant to their presence. 

While the catharsis of vengeance was satisfying, it was far too finite. At the end of the day, he was still trapped.

A prisoner of his own doing.

He could scream and yell all he wanted, but he had only himself to blame. He got himself into this. Were it not for his hard-headedness, he would not have been vulnerable to fall prey to the Giant. Had he not spurned his father’s protection and run off, he’d still be free.

Snufkin hiccuped a sob.

How could he have said those _horrible_ things? How could he have picked such a quarrel with his father over something so transient in the end?

In the heat of the moment it had all seemed so important. Usually, being defiant and sticking to his feelings was worth it, but it wasn’t worth _this_.

That could very well have been the last he ever saw his papa. His last words and memory his papa would carry of him was that his son hated and wanted nothing to do with him, while his would be of the pain in his father’s eyes as he said those horrible words.

Did his father even know what happened to him? Did he care? Did he miss him as greatly as Snufkin missed him?

What if he took his words to heart and got on with his life? Was he happier now that he didn’t have Snufkin around? Better not to have such a rude and defiant child, he supposed...

Would Papa even want to see him again?

What would he do then? He didn’t have anyone else, really. His mama was nice, but she had other children to look after. No one knew him like Papa does. Without Papa…he had no one.

Snufkin brought his paws to his face and rubbed at his eyes, trying to calm himself down. It wouldn’t help him at all to be thinking like this. Even if that was true...even if it was, he’d be fine. Mumriks didn’t often keep family ties anyways. Maybe this would be better for himself as well...

His sepia irises trailed back to the seashell as memories from yesterday came to mind.

When he met the kind and polite moomintroll.

In all his days as a captive, Snufkin had never met anyone like him.

Nobody had ever made such a great fuss of concern over his predicament in the jar and wellbeing before.

No one had ever bothered to sit and talk with him like that before either, especially how open and vulnerable one would be doing so. Openness and vulnerability were typically things Snufkin avoided divulging into like the plague, but he felt strangely at ease doing so with Moomin. Not that he shared much of anything overtly personal, but that he confided anything so openly to Moomin at all among their idle talk was quite anomalous.

He’d been so defensive of him even so soon into their meeting, too. Both against the Giant and his own companion. He remembered the passionate outbursts and glares he had shot about, as if nothing mattered more than shielding Snufkin from any harshness.  
  
It was endearing, if a bit silly. Even if Moomin wasn’t very wary of Fae, it did seem he was well versed in how to be like a fairytale hero. Snufkin glanced about his jar and wondered absently if that made him the damsel in distress, flushing pink at the thought. 

 _‘In distress’, perhaps, but hardly a worthy princess or fair maiden of a hero’s favor_ , he thought dourly.

Maybe that was why all his pleas for help had gone ignored.

Snufkin sighed.

Being alone with only his thoughts for company was both a blessing and a curse.

He then bristled over the Giant’s materialistic greed. Snufkin never saw the need for worldly possessions beyond necessities and scant few sentimental items. Beyond that, having the memory of the sight was enough for him to be content. Yet, though he did not truly share the same attitude, he understood the value and importance possessions had in the lives of others. The fact the Giant disregarded it without any second thoughts was even more sickening.

Since his abduction, he no longer had even those anymore. The Giant didn’t steal his belongings too, and Snufkin doubted his kidnapper would’ve allowed him the courtesy to bring it along anyway. Gone was his tent, his rucksack, his traveler’s tools, and easily most upsetting of all, his trusty fishing rod, with all likelihood that he’d never recover them. Only his harmonica, the clothes on his back, and a few other spare possessions he happened to be carrying in his pockets remained. 

He had his pipe. Of course, without anything to smoke in it, it was of very little use, and smoking inside a jar wasn’t advisable anyhow. He had his pocket knife and lighter too. He had once hoped they might help him out of the jar but like all other things they were useless against the magic. He had coins and other small items rendered similarly useless by his isolation. 

The one thing he was thankful to still have on hand was his Tarot.

It was funny, really. He liked to keep an open mind, but held no absolute belief in anything lest he witnessed proof of it in person. His practices with cartomancy and a few other superstitions in addition to his Caveats perhaps contradicted that, but from many experiences had his reasons to put his faith in such adages. Especially the cards.

Much like his father did with his Forebodings.

They were always a comfort when he had no one else to provide him guidance. Usually.

Many of his readings of late had been dour ones, which further dampened his hopes. The reality of their bleak outlooks coming to pass was just additional salt in the wound. 

 _But things were different now_ , he tried to convince himself. Despite his conflicted feelings, he wanted to hope that Moomin’s promise might change the card’s outcome for once…

His Caveats had not deemed Moomin as someone untrustworthy, but Snufkin needed to be certain.

He pulled his deck from his pocket and slid them out from their case with care. As he began shifting the order of the cards in his paws, Snufkin spoke.

“ _My trusted deck, I seek your guidance once more. What does my future for me have in store?_ ”

He shuffled the cards thoroughly, split the pile into three, then restacked the piles together in the reverse order of how he divided them. Once the deck was made whole, he drew four cards one by one.

Snufkin placed them in a neat row for the four card spread. Setting the rest of the deck aside, he silently prayed he made himself clear enough for his cards to give a more concise answer. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he moved to flip over the first card:

 _The Nine of Swords_.

A stress card in its upright position. It made sense, it certainly described his situation here in the jar. Awaiting either freedom or demise. His restless nights and growing despair. 

Tentatively, he reached for the second card. The conflict card was one Snufkin had come to dread of late in spreads. He wasn’t sure what he would do if the cold face of The Tower greeted him again. Its predictions of chaos sent a chill through him. If the cards predicted the failure of Moomin’s plan, then Snufkin was sure he’d never succeed in being free. 

Snufkin let of a soft gasp when he flipped the card over:

 _The Chariot_.

Snufkin could hardly believe his eyes as he saw the upright card. Tough work ahead, but at the end of it hope. His cards had given him something he desperately needed right now, a light to aim for at the promise of Moomintroll’s efforts. 

Feeling lighter, Snufkin turned over the third card.

 _The High Priestess_.

Again, turned upright he smiled fondly. A card of good judgement. It told him his Caveats were steering him in the right direction with his feelings on Moomintroll. He wondered if it was possible this was too much good fortune but shook it off. The cards were all pointing to his freedom, and Moomin as his saviour. 

But now he was at the final card, and even with such a fortunate prediction so far, one card could certainly make or break everything. The hope could’ve been short sighted, for there was still the chance that things could end badly. 

With heavy diffidence, he overturned the final card:

 _The Ten of Cups_.

Snufkin blinked in surprise at this final card, finding so many possible meanings behind it. It was a card of love, of mended relationships, and one of marriage. He had no clue what this last card could be pointing him towards.

Perhaps mending of relationships foretold that he would see his father again, that things would turn out alright between them…but he wasn’t sure. It had been too long, and his father was likely very far away from wherever he’d end up if he escaped. That left love or marriage, and _surely_ it couldn’t mean one of those…

…could it?

Snufkin looked pensive glimpsing at Moomin’s heart-shaped shell for the umteeth time.

The cards had told him their were good things to expect in his future. A first since his imprisonment.

He believed in the cards.

The cards told you things for a reason and his deck was seldom wrong.

Snufkin still believed in them, trusted them after every ill-begotten reading that came to fruition he received since his abduction. Even more than his inborn Caveats.

He could trust this one and its foretold good omens no differently.

For all his own self-doubts, he would keep his faith in the taromancy of his cards.

The rest of the day passed by in a haze, alternating between staring off at nothing and naps until the Giant returned. They said very few words to each other this time around as the Giant prepped for bed, Snufkin lulled him to sleep with his music, then turned in for the evening himself right after.

Two days passed and Snufkin’s hope faltered. The cards had foretold a good outcome, but how long would it be? He had to be careful. His longing stares at the place he remembered Moomin approaching from the first time had caught the attention of the Giant and Snufkin couldn’t afford for him to get suspicious. His escape had the greatest chance of success if he was caught unaware.

By morning the day after, his resolve crumbled further. Moomin promised him. The troll’s oath was made with utmost sincerity. His Caveats and the cards said he could be trusted! He kicked himself for his impatience, his wholly unfair, _unrealistic_ expectations, but the young mumrik could not keep his mind rational. He couldn’t level his shallow, quickened breathing, quell his marathoning heartbeat, silence the taunting voices in his mind trying to convince him he had been tricked again.

Where was Moomin? How long would it be until he returned? _If he did at all_.

No, he would. He HAD to!

Snufkin could only resign to sit at the bottom of his jar, knees to his chest and head buried into them. His paws gripped his arms as he tried to drown out his traitorous mind and assure himself of Moomin’s return. That _for once_ the promise had been true.

Forcing back tears, Snufkin curled in on himself and willed his being numb to all his internal turmoil. He considered remaining in the catatonic state forever. A guaranteed escape. Nothing would hurt anymore. However, Snufkin would have a change of heart towards such an idea because of a miracle that occurred just shy of high noon.

“ _SNUFKIN!!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who might be confused, Snufkin's Caveats are a sixth sense in a similar vein to Joxter's Forebodings, which he inherited from his father. Where Joxter's Forebodings forewarn impending disasters and other crises on a much larger scale, Snufkin's are for less major danger warnings, and are particularly attuned to providing warnings of whether or not someone is lying/trustworthy.
> 
> Read and review!!


	9. The Hobgoblin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: bitch
> 
> seriously F this chapter for what it put me through fucking hell in a hand basket  
> –FurorNocturna

“MOOMIN, WAKE UP!!”

The troll startled awake with a cry and fell out of his bed. He hissed upon hitting the floor, but the accompaniment of loud string of curses from another voice informed Moomin he did not make his tumble alone.

“Get off of me, you big dummy! Your big butt is crushing me!” yelled Little My.

“Why did you jump on me then, Little My!?” Moomin scolded as he righted himself up and allowed the mymble girl to get free. “You could use a number of other ways to wake me up that wouldn’t risk you getting hurt, you know!”

“Those don’t work fast enough and you didn’t fall off the bed last time. How was I supposed to know?” she said unapologetic, dusting herself off. “No matter, get your tail moving already!”

Moomin did a double take when he glanced out his window, only to find it still very dark outside. “It’s not even daylight yet!”

“And the Hobgoblin will arrive at the Beanstalk at _dawn_!” Little My shot back. “You _do_ still want to talk to him, don’t you! And it’s very rude to keep people waiting! See if I ever do you any more favors when you’re in trouble again if this is the thanks I get!”

Moomin balked and stumbled to his feet, grabbing his bag and personal pack before sliding down his room ladder out his window. Once on the ground, Moomin made a beeline for the Beanstalk.

As Alicia’s letter promised, the Hobgoblin had arrived at dawn that morning. Tall, thin, primly dressed, with a long grey beard and haunting gold eyes, the Hobgoblin was a most imposing figure. He gallivanted on his flying black panther high across the livening orange cockcrow skies of Moominvalley before Moomin’s very eyes, circling the towering stalk.

When Little My caught up, Moomin made sure to thank her.

“That’s more like it!” was all she said in response.

The spectacle drew the attention of the other denizens, who flocked to the Beanstalk for a closer look, but allowed a wide berth for the Hobgoblin and his panther to land comfortably once they descended from the air at Alicia’s direction. When their paws touched the barren earth, the panther made a low growl at the gathering of strangers so close to their master, but was quickly pacified by the Hobgoblin as he dismounted from the mighty grimalkin. 

“No need for such vitriol, my friend. They are no threat to us.” the Hobgoblin soothed in a gravelly sotto voce before turning towards the assemblage. “Salutations, I am the Hobgoblin. I was told to meet someone here.” 

Alicia raised her hand to capture his attention. “My grandmother is the one who made the summons, sir, but you’re actually to be meeting with Moomin,” she explained, gesturing to him. 

“Hello, Mr Hobgoblin, sir. I was the one that had you summoned.” Moomin greeted respectfully.

“Summoned indeed. I was quite far off, exploring the world.” the Hobgoblin muttered.

“And I humbly apologize if I have offended you. I did not know how else to obtain an audience with you.” Moomin bowed.

“Hmm. State your business, then.”

Moomin cleared his throat to gather his nerve. “Thank you. I’ve only heard stories of you and your great power, and I believe them to be true.”

“So you do? It is good that a demonstration will not be needed.” the Hobgoblin said, his intonation completely ambiguous to whether his comment was in jest or held ominous undertones.

“I wish to make a deal with you. In exchange for a magic favor, I will do anything you ask of me for you.” Moomin stated.

“Anything?”

The young troll nodded. “Anything. Only a magic favor from you has the power to grant what I wish.”

This caught the Hobgoblin’s interest. “Oh?”

“As I don’t doubt you can already tell…our home has suffered greatly at the mercy of this heat.” Moomin began again. “While I have managed to aid in alleviating much of the poverty this crisis has caused, I can do nothing about making the crops grow or the land green again. In return for whatever it is you charge me to do, I wish to use your favor to restore life to Moominvalley and lift this awful heat.”

The Hobgoblin stroked his beard in contemplation. “Your wish is an honorable one. That I cannot deny. Alas, magic as powerful as mine comes with a price, and there is nothing you can do for me.”

“Nothing? Surely there must be _something_ I could do in exchange!” Moomin insisted gently. However, from within, his heart dropped like a stone. There _had_ to be something! This couldn’t be all for nothing!

“I wander the heavens and universe, can do and have seen things not many are capable of comprehending. Myself and my desires are beyond the mortal limitations which you possess, young one. Ergo, while you are kind to offer, the task would not be within your ability to accomplish.” the Hobgoblin replied.

“Name it.” Moomin urged. “I won’t know if I can or cannot if I don’t know what it is. If I truly can’t, I won’t press anymore and I’ll let you go on your way.”

“My friend Moomin’s capability is not something to misprize, sir.” Alicia vouched. “He’s braved the Giant’s Keep to recover my grandmother’s stolen broomstick! I’m certain he can aid you in some way, however difficult it may be.”

The Hobgoblin considered this carefully, studying the troll in front of him before deciding he would humor the boy. “Very well. Most of the trammels I face are ones I must overcome on my own, but there is one encumbrance which has emerged of late that has proved most vexing to solve.”

It was then that Moomin noticed something unusual about the Hobgoblin. Every depiction of the mysterious sorcerer in stories written and by word of mouth described him sporting a fine top hat. Yet, his head was bare of any such article. A possibly trivial detail, but for it to be mentioned so intertwined with the Hobgoblin’s appearance had to mean it held _some_ kind of importance.

“My hat is a very powerful magical artifact, and capable of great danger and calamity in the wrong hands.” the Hobgoblin explained. “Which is why the issue of it having been stolen from my person is of serious concern. I’ve had to place my hunt for the Spirit Gems in abeyance to search for it so to prevent such prospective disasters, but thus far has been to no avail.”

Recalling a recent memory, Moomin came to an ecstatic revelation which made his eyes outshine the sun in the face of the serendipity.

“I can say with no shadow of a doubt that I _can_ help you! I know where your hat is and I’m more than capable of retrieving it for you!” Moomin declared confidently.

“It would indeed be a great service to me for thee to undertake this task.” the tall sorcerer acquiesced. “If that is all–”

“Wait!” Moomin interrupted. “Forgive me, but if I may, I would like to take on an additional task for you, any that you choose to name, in return for an additional magic favor.”

“Why would you require another?” the Hobgoblin inquired.

“I…It’s not for me, it’s for someone else, and it’s very important! I’ll do anything you ask in exchange for it!” Moomin begged, lowering himself to his knees. “Please!”

The Hobgoblin’s golden eyes locked with Moomin’s shining sky blues, and seeing nothing but utmost sincerity, could not bring himself to refuse.

“If that is the case, I shall oblige. Your guerdon for the retrieval of my hat and the most valued possession of the Giant’s treasury will be two magic favors of thine choosing, granted by me. Are these terms agreeable?”

Moomin nodded. “Yes, sir. We have a deal!”

With terms agreed upon, Moomin shook the Hobgoblin’s hands and thusly sealed the pact of their bargain.

The crowd cheered at their alignment, Moomin and Alicia sharing a celebratory hug at their success. As they broke apart, Alicia was suddenly wrapped in a second hug as Snorkmaiden ran over.

“You both did it! You were incredible!” she cheered, gently nuzzling Alicia’s cheek before turning to give Moomin a short hug as well.

When all the congratulations and well wishes had finished, Moomin turned to leave and prepare for his journey, but was suddenly stuck by the sound of an anguished caterwaul and found Fredrickson watching a fitful Joxter from a safe distance.

Moomin gasped at the sight.

“Mr Joxter! Goodness, what happened! Are you okay?!” he cried, rushing to his side.

“Bad night. Awoke several times screaming bloody murder. It’s his night terrors, no doubt. I’ve seen them before and tried to comfort him once but he would lash out his claws if anyone tried to get close, then drank until he was dead to the world again.” Fredrikson sighed sadly. “His morning after crapulence…never seen it this bad. Never like this.”

Moomin’s chest crumpled at the response. Joxter had still suffered after he left, all through the night while he slept through it all. “Will he be okay? Hey! Mr Joxter, can you hear me? Do you need anything?”

The Joxter slurred and grunted unintelligibly, not fully responsive to Moomin or anything else going on around him, but clearly in pain.

“Mr Joxter, _please_.” Moomin pleaded, carefully nudging him to try and get his attention. “Please tell me how to help.”

The Joxter did not respond, but there were others who did.

 

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be doing what you promised the Hobgoblin!”

“You’re still going to get Moominvalley fixed, right?”

“Don’t bother with the drunkard!”

 

“Indeed! You shouldn’t dally when there’s more important matters to be attended to, young man!” Mrs Fillyjonk scolded shrilly, shaking her parasol. “Quit wasting precious time on that…that no-good _heathen_ , and–”  

“Just _shove off_ , will you!” Moomin snapped abruptly.

The crowd collectively gasped at his outburst.

“All of you are just awful, you know that?” he added with a glare. _Enough was ENOUGH!_

His cutting words shocked them into silence, though their unspoken thoughts were anything _but_ quiet. The youngest moomin had always been a kind and polite fellow towards others. For him to lash out like this was unheard of, not to mention completely ill-mannered and puerile of someone his age to behave in such a manner! _How dare he_! _How could he take such a disrespectful tone with them_! _He should apologize this instant_!

It is most unfortunate that adults oftentimes deflect any and all acknowledgement of their own wrongdoings when they are told to be held accountable for them, or that they’re even in the wrong to begin with, by someone younger than themselves. 

“I beg your pardon?!” Mrs Fillyjonk demanded.

“I mean it!” Moomin continued harshly. “We’ve all otherwise banded together in these desperate times, yet you still shun the Joxter here! And for what? Because he was _right_ about this disaster striking Moominvalley?! He didn’t bring this misfortune! He tried to _warn_ us about it! It’s _our fault_ we didn’t listen!”

 

“The man is a _drunk_!”

"Why _should_ we have listened to the blubbering fool!" 

“There’s no trusting the word of a man who’s not in even in his right mind!”

 

“Would _you_ be in your right mind if you were in his shoes?! Joxter experienced a great tragedy before he received the Forebodings that foretold something terrible coming to Moominvalley! The pain from both was so great, he felt the bottle was the only way he could cope! I can’t speak for how he could’ve managed differently, but even if he had better options, he _still_ made the efforts to try and help us in the state he was in! He would’ve told us the same thing whether or not he was inebriated!”

“With or without the smell of elderberries on his breath, it’s not as if he’s the trustworthy sort anyways!” brayed a Hemulen, inciting the jeers anew.

“Yea! Too many stories from lands near and yonder tell of a trickster leasing-monger who shares his face!” another chimed in. “He’s a swindler and a liar!”

“And while we’ve all been working diligently to recover from this disaster, he’s just been leeching of our resources!” Mrs Fillyjonk scorned. “We all would be much better off without having to feed and pamper that whimpering layabout!”

This only incensed Moomin further.

“So not only did you all ignore Mr Joxter about his Forebodings, but you also dismissed him when he’s been _grieving his loss_!” Moomin bellowed. “You belittled his plight because you put more value in hearsay than someone else’s suffering?!”

It was then that the hecklers had the decency to look abashed. Some possibly even looked rightfully horrified at the reveal of that information.

“W-We…We didn’t _know_ …” someone feebly dared voice.

“ _‘You didn’t know’_ , you say? You know how _I_ know?” Moomin scoffed, disgusted. “Because I _listened_. Joxter has plenty of worthwhile things to say if you could ever be bothered to hear him out! So how about instead listening to yourselves talk, you open your ears, not your mouth, to others and let them have a turn to say their piece.”

From the sidelines, through the wincing from all the loud clamoring of the voices around him further aggravating his merciless hangover, the Joxter sobered significantly at the scene before him. Young Moomin was always fussing over him, despite the rest of the town and even his own protests against it. Now, the others were no longer passive in voicing their disapproval towards Moomin and his unsavory ‘fraternization’ with a pariah. Just as Joxter feared and had attempted to avoid since the beginning with persisting dissuasions. Discontented and annoyed groups of people so easily turned into angry mobs, which he knew firsthand was an unpleasant affair and certainly something he never wanted the boy to ever experience.

Yet, Moomin was unwavering, standing tall and firm, defending the honor of a drunken vagrant. A dangerous thing to do when your words contradict those of others who greatly outnumber you, and still not once had Moomin yielded to them. It rekindled a reverent pride in the Joxter. The boy was a true wonder. He was young and still had much to learn, but as he was now, he was already a hero deserving of admiration and his memory shared for generations to come in honor and in legend. Tumultuous as his heart was from his unrelenting pain, Joxter found himself grounded by the son of one of his best friends. Moomin had the makings of greatness, something too rare to be found in just anybody or in any era.

And by Tove, he would be there to witness the light coming off him the day he showed the world as such! He could already see the first gleaming rays right then and there…  

The Hobgoblin then spoke up.

“The young one speaks the truth. He has done much for thine sakes in spite of the risks to himself, yet thee scorns the very kindness and compassion he extends to this man which drives his deeds to aid the rest of you. Though I have lived hundreds of years, it is scarce I encounter souls as radiant as this one’s. For that, I will honor our bargain and trust his judgment that this land is worth saving for those who inhabit it, even though this display to which I have beared witness has given me doubts to act on such good graces.”

Thoroughly chastised, the denizens of Moominvalley were silenced and made to reflect on their actions with guilt and regret. A select few were less discerning, and started sputtering niceties and excessive groveling in a pathetic attempt to regain the Hobgoblin’s favor of themselves. An act which would only achieve the opposite, and earned further hostility from the sorcerer's feline companion. Moomin paid it little mind and returned to the Joxter’s side.

“Well done, my boy! You’ve got the makings of a world-class hero yet,” Moominpappa grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

The Muddler gave a small nod. “It really does mean a lot. Poor Jox just hasn’t been himself, but that’s no reason to treat him so poorly!!”

Moominpappa hummed in agreement. “He’s in a state alright, but we must treat that with understanding, not ridicule. And as his friends…it’s time we started doing our part of being reliable supporters proper.”

“Agreed!” squeaked the Muddler, his uncle nodding in kind.

Moomin nodded absently as he turned his attention back to the Joxter himself. 

“Is there anything I can do for you before I go climb the Beanstalk again?” he asked again, quietly.

Joxter clapped a paw on the young troll’s shoulder. “If you must insist, I want for you to take pride in yourself for the incredible individual you are, for the vast valor you possess and so readily express in your actions like you’ve done just moments ago. Would that be a fair request to make?”

Moomin blushed a peachy pink. “I believe I can manage that.”

The vagabond chuckled light-heartedly. “You said ‘anything’. Now if it wouldn’t be a bother to ask one last thing, have you any coffee to spare?”

“Of course.” Moomin smiled, fetching the spare grounds he had stocked in his pack. “Would you like me to brew it for you too?”

“I’ve held you up on your quest long enough. I’ll pester someone else to do it if I cannot manage it myself.” the Joxter waved off, not allowing Moomin to disagree. “There’s nary a Foreboding to beware, therefore not a second more to waste. You’ve come this far, but _nåra skjuter igen hare_. If you take any longer, your father might get the idea to go in your place and take the glory for himself. Can’t have him do that, can we?”

Moomin giggled, but nodded his agreement, setting out on his way once he said his goodbyes. He had just approached the base of the Beanstalk to begin the climb anew when he was stopped by a familiar shout.

“Not so fast, Moomin! Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Little My!”

“You better not be backing out of your promise! You said I’d get to join you if you had to climb the Beanstalk again, and here we are!” she accosted.

For a moment, Moomin only stared at the girl. Of course he remembered that promise, and now he was realizing how much he’d come to regret it. “Yes, I did. Not that it would stop you from coming along regardless.”

“Nope!” Little My smirked, smug as could be.

 _Of course you would_ , Moomin rolled his eyes. “Well, come on! Try to keep up.”

“Me? I know I’ll beat you to the top! You keep up with me, doofus!”

“Hey!” Moomin called after. “We’ll return soon with both requests, Mr Hobgoblin! We won’t let you down, sir!”

The Hobgoblin watched the pair continue their climb with avid interest.

The young troll intrigued him.

Many who held greater repute and recognition as persons of honor did not possess the great integrity or solicitude this young boy imparted on others so freely and unconditionally. The moomintroll made no exceptions in his community with his compassion, as the Hobgoblin had witnessed moments ago when he defended the ostracized mumrik.

However, the sorcerer remained curious about the request for another task to gain a second favor. Seeing as the fiery mymble girl would accompany and aid him, the Hobgoblin supposed the request was so that she would earn a reward for her part in the deed as well. Another testament to the troll’s kindness.

The Hobgoblin continued to observe the two until they disappeared into the clouds. 

He knew he would just have to wait and see how things would unfold when it came time, but he had good faith the aspiring young one and his companion would prevail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R! Comments are the best!
> 
> PS I am by no means an expert in the Swedish language, so for anyone who is, if there are any mistakes you find at any point in this fic or ways I can improve the accuracy, please tell me.  
> –FurorNocturna


	10. The Second Cimb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is soft
> 
> whoever can spot the book reference gets a prize!

Climbing the Beanstalk the second time around was much easier than the first had been. Moomin knew which shoots and vines were sturdy enough to grab onto, and there were far fewer breaks made during the trek. That was one advantage of adventuring with Little My instead of Sniff.

When Moomin had breached the clouds, he quickly made his way up the keep’s door, slipping under the crack and inside. Effectively leaving Little My quite behind in his haste.

“Slow down, would you!” she yelled at him.

“Aren’t you always boasting how you’re the fastest of us?” Moomin snorted.

“Because I am!” Little My glowered. “But I don’t know where on earth you’re going, so I can’t run ahead of you!”

“Then you’ll just have to keep up and follow me!” Moomin chirped.

Little My scowled. She hated it when he had a point. “How much further until we reach the Treasury?”

“I’m not going to the Treasury yet.”

“What!?”

“There’s somewhere else I need to go first! It’ll just be a moment!” Moomin insisted.

“What could possibly be more important than–”

“ _SNUFKIN_!!”

Little My tripped over her feet in her shock. Lucky for her, Moomin was too absorbed in bolting up the length of the oversized nightstand to notice her humiliating fall. As she dusted herself off, she wondered what in the world was a ‘Snufkin’ and why Moomin was screaming about it.

Moomin scurried his way up as fast as he could, immediately rushing to the jar to greet the person within again.

“Snufkin! It’s me!” Moomin sang out, hands pressed against the glass.

Surprise riddled young mumrik’s face when he looked up to see the friendly face he met two days prior. “Moomin? Is that you?”

Moomin hugged the jar. “Of course it is, silly! How are you doing?”

“You…You actually came back.” Snufkin breathed, feeling fluttery on the inside.

By the card and his Caveats, Snufkin couldn’t put a name to the rush of joy that spread through him as he looked at Moomin on the other side of the glass if he tried. Joyful tears pricked his eyes, but he would not shed them before Moomin. Now that was a most troubling thought. 

Snufkin never paid mind to how others perceived him, but he suddenly felt quite self-conscious about how red his eyes were. Not that he had a suitable means to check if they were or not. It shouldn’t matter anyways, but should Moomin learn of how upset he’d been the last few days, the troll would worry more. _Again, what should that even matter to me?_

“Of course I did! My quest isn’t complete yet! I got the riches back to the valley, but the land itself isn’t fixed yet! And I still need to free you too!” Moomin clacked earnestly. “We made a deal!”

Disbelief still held the young mumrik’s heart in irons. “You really meant that?”

“Yes, Snufkin! I promised you!” Moomin affirmed, voice breaking into a sob as tears started spilling over. “I…”

“Hey, _hey_! Why are you crying, Moomin?” Snufkin started, surprised by the troll’s despair and how the sight got him so rattled. He wasn’t used to being a comforter or even keen on touch in general, but his inability to console Moomin other than with his words oddly bothered the traveller. The physical barrier between them was all the more stifling as a result.

“I found a way to undo the magic on the jar and get you out…”

Snufkin stilled, eyes like dinner plates and an ungainly gasp broke free from his throat.

“You _what_?”

“I really did! B-But…But I don’t _have_ it right now! I need to retrieve two items from the treasury first and bring them to the Hobgoblin. In exchange, he promised me two magic favors. One will be to restore Moominvalley, the other will be to help you! But I need your help again to do it and I can’t ask you that when all I have to offer again is my flimsy word! I’m so sorry, Snufkin! I probably sound like a big old liar, just like all the others you met before!!”

Snufkin couldn’t help but stiffen at such words. Normally, this was the sign. The tell that such promises could not be trusted and doing so would only be betrayed. But if it was, his Caveats had not signalled so.

He was glad for it. His eyes darkened briefly in thought if he considered what a bad feeling about Moomin might lead him to do...

Nevertheless, Caveats or no Caveats, Snufkin couldn’t bring himself to believe that now. Not with Moomin. No amount of convincing could he be led to believe that Moomin’s tears were a deceit, or anything but the expression of real sadness. He found he couldn’t fathom any such cruelty from Moomin as he came to learn to expect of others. Instead, his heart wept with this kind troll, his eyes threatening to do the same.

“No, Moomin. You aren’t at all like the others before you.” Snufkin soothed. “None of the others cared like you do, or talked with me about anything just to get to know me that wasn’t a means to an end. You also came back, and with an _answer_ to how you plan to release me! No one’s _ever_ done that.”

Moomin wiped his eyes with a sniff. “Y-You really believe me?”

“I’ll admit I was doubtful at first, but you proved me wrong. If you really did figure out a way but need more time to fulfill it, then I can wait a little while longer for you to do so.” Snufkin assured. “I trust you, Moomin.”

“You really do mean that?”

Snufkin patted his pocket. “I still have your heart shell, don’t I? You still need to retrieve it too, and you yourself told me not to let you have it back until you got me out of this jar. It’s been well cared for in my paws.”

“That I did, and I’m glad.” Moomin tittered. “I…I’m really happy to see you again. I’m sorry you had to see me cry though.”

“And you, too…”

The two found their paws meeting against the glass; so close, yet still separate. Moomin only wished he could take Snufkin’s paw in his own, to give it a gentle squeeze in order to assure him for certain that he cared.

“Moomin, you’re really terrible! You absolutely terrible, you know that? The absolute worst to leave me behind! That’s _twice_ now today! And then I had to risk my life figuring out how to climb my way up here because you couldn’t be bothered to help!”

Little My’s voice broke Moomin from his dreamy thoughts as he pulled himself a respectable distance away from the jar, hoping she hadn’t seen. 

“You’ve been acting strange ever since you came back the first time and kept dodging me every time I asked you about it! Just what has your mind up in such a tiz…”

She trailed off once she got a better look at things on the Giant’s nightstand, the tension lessening on her brow but not the situation. Moomin was very cross with her, glaring daggers down her direction with his tail flicking about like he was ready to pounce. 

Next, Little My saw the stranger in the jar. Maybe it was a bit odd that there was someone else their size where a Giant lived, but nothing stood out to her about him. He returned her look with a plain one, though the tilt in his head gave away his interest.

…Then she saw how Moomin threw several quick, softened glances at the jar boy intermittently during his silly staredown at her, probably thinking she wouldn’t notice. The fool.

“Ohhhhhh, I get it now!” Little My grinned devilishly.

“ _Don’t!_ Don’teven think about it!” Moomin snapped in warning.

“And just what is it that I’m thinking about?” she pressed, smug in her mock innocence.

“I see you have a different companion with you this time. Who’s this little one?” Snufkin spoke up.

“As if you have any right to call anyone ‘little’ in a Giant’s house!” Little My snipped, turning her attention fully to him. No one called her ‘little’ and got away with it!

Snufkin merely smiled. “Could one not say the same when the whole world itself makes us all seem small?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know what you really meant!” 

Snufkin hummed. “If you say so. Now then, let me ask again, what’s your name?”

“Humph. I’m Little My.” Little My scoffed, crossing her arms.

“ _‘The smallest one of them all’_ , indeed. Most fitting.” Snufkin said with a tip of his hat.

“And who are YOU supposed to be?! Mr. Rotten Attitude Insulterson!?” the mymble girl spat. This stranger — this ‘Snufkin’, she presumed — was really getting under her skin.

“I suppose.” Snufkin shrugged, irritatingly unbothered. “Some might say the same of yours, with how it spits fire and venom like a baby dragon throwing a fit.”

“You’d better hope you’ve dealt with a dragon quite as terrible before!” Little My shrilled dangerously.

“I think I like my chances,” Snufkin smirked. Moomin brought such _fun_ companions along.

“Sure got an awful mouth on you, pointy-head!” Little My snarled.

“We are rather alike in that way, pate of beetroot shape.”

Moomin couldn’t help a snicker that grew quickly into a laugh. Little My growled lowly, green eyes glaring ablaze from the boy in the jar to Moomin and back again before lashing out.

“You sure talk a lot of big game for a scruffy bloke in a jar! No way you’d talk like that without any protective barrier around you! Or is that how you got yourself locked up in the first place?!”

“Little My, stop it!” Moomin said, quickly jumping to Snufkin’s defense, who was visibly set back on his heels by her exclamation. “You’re being mean!”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “I don’t see him tearing up over it.” 

“Just because he’s brave doesn’t make it any less hurtful!” Moomin shot back. “That was really uncalled for!”

“At least I’m not the one being an idiot who makes big dumb, doey, goo-goo eyes at–!!” Moomin cut her off as he managed to get his paw over her mouth just in time. 

“ANYWAYS!” Moomin said a little too loudly. “Back to the help we needed? OW!”

He jerked his paw away, checking it for further injury. As Little My was wont to do, she had bit him.

“Shut up, you oaf! You’ll alert the Giant!” Little My hissed, her mouth paw-free. 

Moomin scowled at her. “Shows what you know! The Giant’s not even here! …Right, Snufkin?”

“He is not.” Snufkin confirmed. “Now what is it you need my help with?”

“It’s much more dangerous than swiping some more gold, I’m afraid. You’ve already helped me once, and I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I can’t free myself without you, Moomin, and surely you’re taking the bigger risk. Besides, what’s the harm in just telling me?” Snufkin pointed out. 

Moomin still didn’t really agree, but nonetheless conceded with a small nod. “I need to retrieve two artifacts for the Hobgoblin: his magic tophat and the Giant’s most valued possession in his treasury. I already know the hat you told me about and used last time is what I’m looking for, but I don’t know what the other is! I can’t bring back the wrong thing!” Moomin flailed. “If I mess this up, I won’t be able to free you and that absolutely can’t happen!” 

Snufkin bit his tongue to keep his composure. “The Giant’s most valued possession, you say? The answer to that is simple: his pet.”

“His pet!? The Giant has a pet?” Little My questioned, scanning about for the animal with intrigue, as if it might appear from around a corner.

“You did mention that before when I was here last!” Moomin recalled. “What kind of pet?”

“He does indeed, and she’s known as the Golden Goose. She lives in the rafters at the top of the treasury and is in part responsible for why the room is so bountiful with riches. Her eggs are very special, you see. The eggs laid by her are made of gold, hence her name. Some are solid gold, others have only a golden shell, and if that shell is broken open, you’ll find a handsome bounty of the treasures inside.” Snufkin explained. “As you can imagine, that’s what makes her the Giant’s most valued possession.”

“Is…Is that all she does? Lay gold and treasure eggs? Can she even lay normal eggs or have babies?”

“I suppose she could, if she met a nice gander one day.” Snufkin admitted with a shrug. “You are right about one thing though. This task will be much more difficult and has far greater risks.”

“Oh dear, what if I can’t do it? What if I mess up so bad we not only fail but all get into the worst trouble imaginable!” Moomin fretted. 

“I never said that, but I just want you to be aware of the dangers of what you’ll be undertaking.” Snufkin reassured in a calm tone. “Once again, you’ll have to leave after the Giant has gone to sleep, but there’s something you must do before he returns.”

“Huh? What’s that?” Moomin asked, managing to collect himself. 

“The Golden Goose, like any other anserine, is a very temperamental and unruly creature. You must introduce yourselves and become acquainted with her, otherwise she won’t leave with you quietly. It’ll be best you get a start on that post haste so you’ll have plenty of time to do so before the Giant returns.”

“But why do we have to do it now?” Moomin frowned, not totally understanding but also wanting to stay with Snufkin for longer. 

“She’ll be difficult and noisy until you get to know her.” Snufkin said simply. “I can get the Giant to sleep, but keeping him asleep through something like that is beyond my capability.” 

“A likely story!” Little My sneered, giving Snufkin a hard, accusatory look before turning to Moomin. “You might be too caught up ogling to think about it, but what if he’s leading us into some sort of trap??”

Snufkin couldn’t help but recoil at her declaration. He’d _never_ do that to Moomin! 

As if to prove his point, Moomin jumped to his defense once again. 

“What a horrid thing to say! Snufkin helped us last time and he’s giving us advice again! We have a deal, Little My. And I intend to keep it!” he said firmly, tail lashing as his blue eyes glared seriously at the mymble girl. 

Little My glared back. “But you can’t even do any of that if you don’t come back here again _after_ we’ve managed to pull this all off! Do you really plan to come back here and risk your life just for _him_?” 

“Absolutely. The moment I make the exchange and the Hobgoblin grants me the favors, I’m storming this Keep one last time and smashing this jar to oblivion!” Moomin proclaimed. “Er, of course I’ll be mindful to not be so reckless that you’d get hurt in the smashing, but…well, you understand what I mean, right? I hope.”

“I do. Thank you, Moomin.” Snufkin thanked, seeing Moomin shift uneasily over his words. He paused to let the weight of his words carry before he continued with a more solemn whisper. “Do you think you’ll manage alright with the Golden Goose? You really better be going now before it’s too late. Not to mention I’m not sure how things will go about with that one antagonizing things.”

“Snufkin, it’s going to be okay. A pain in the butt she may be, but Little My is one of the toughest people I know. If anyone can tame an unruly creature, it’s Little My!” Moomin whispered back comfortingly.

Snufkin gave a wan expression. “Just be sure you don’t underestimate it. This is a very important step…” 

“I’ve also got my Lucky Find on my side! It’s helped me out so much in the past and I know for sure it will continue to do so now!” Moomin beamed, resting his paws against the glass of the jar as he added tenderly, “And then, I’ll set you free for sure.”

Snufkin found himself placing his hands against the glass from the other side, gazing into Moomin’s hopeful and determined eyes.

They were really such a beautiful blue.

“What was that part about needing to get a move on? Hurry up already, Moomin!” Little My interrupted, already prepped to climb back down the nightstand and out of patience to wait any longer.  
  
Moomin’s eyes widened as he realized she was still there and he pulled away from the glass.  
  
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” he said, signaling she could start her descent ahead of him. Little My did so gladly, but though Moomin followed, he faced the jar one last time. “We’ll be back soon, Snufkin, and I’ll have you out of there before you know it!”  
  
Snufkin gave a nod and a tip of his hat. “I wish you good luck then.”  
  
Moomin smiled before disappearing once more down the nightstand, he and Little My scurrying across the floor and out of the room in search of the Golden Goose.  
  
When Snufkin was certain he was alone, he sat at the bottom of his jar and pulled out the heart shaped shell to look at it. He glanced up and out to where Moomin had gone, looking out fondly.  
  
Moomin had come back. He was back just as the cards had promised. He held the solution to his problem. He would free him once and for all, he could feel it. 

As a swell of long forgotten transports of delight rushed through Snufkin’s heart, he held the shell close to his chest.  
  
Soon he would be free.

Things were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments make my day!!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	11. The Golden Goose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I last updated this in AUGUST?! I am the worst
> 
> So on 09/05/19, two things happened. First, my lovely talented co-author Jir returned to university and studying has eaten up a lot of their free time. Like, all of it. Second, my inspiration decided at that moment to take a massive nosedive and crumble to pieces. Adding to the equation my sizable dependency on Jir for getting me out of my creative roadblocks not being available much at all while their semester has been going on, I wasn’t able to do much of anything with this story for a good long while until my latest creative boom all-nighter. Again, very sorry for the big wait, and the unfortunate unpredictable nature of my crappy creative process.
> 
> Lastly, pretty please can everyone give Jir love and good vibes in the comments and on tumblr for their perseverance and endurance embarking through rigorous university classes busying them into exhaustion? Yet they still prevail keeping up with the extensive workload, refusing to be defeated by even the most ridiculous deadlines, so Jir is very deserving of all the love and appreciation for that awesome dedication, even if it sadly means fun fan content projects are put on hold for the time being. I love and appreciate you Jir for all you do and all you achieve!
> 
> –FurorNocturna

“So…‘Snufkin’, huh?”

Moomin wanted to scream.

He didn’t remember the Treasury taking this long to reach on foot. No way had it always been this far away, having only made the journey once notwithstanding. That was completely inconsequential.

No. He was positive when he went down this same hall with Sniff two days ago, they had reached the Treasury in a shorter amount of time. Or the passage of time had flown much, _much_ quicker.

“I knew you were avoiding me. Between the sneaking with Snorkmaiden when you both bailed from the party, to you tripping over your words like a stuttering rooster in front of the Hobgoblin, I knew you were hiding something!”

So why did it now decide to drag itself on its proverbial feet like molasses in wintertime? If not only to torment him?

“It’s all because of him. You were being all weird because you’ve gone all silly in the head over a _boy_!”

And why did Little My have positively no ability to keep her mouth shut?!

Granted, there was no way he could’ve predicted meeting Snufkin on his quest. Regardless, he knew Little My well enough and long enough to count on that she would make herself the biggest pain in his side for the entirety of what they did, no matter how much she contributed in a positive way as well. Now because Snufkin was involved and Little My now knew about Snufkin, she had taken it upon herself to outdo herself in just how insufferable she could be.

 _Why oh WHY did I ever make such a promise!_ his mind bemoaned. 

“No wonder you made a fuss about getting that second magic favor. I must say, you’ve got quite poor tastes. Then again, it’s only fitting you find someone as annoying as yourself to moon over.” she sneered. “You know not to keep secrets from me so why bother?”

“Because I knew you’d be mean and tease me over it.” Moomin said with a roll of his eyes.

Little My scoffed. “If you think this is me being mean or anywhere close to teasing, you clearly haven’t learned anything since we met all those years ago.” 

“Just because you don’t define it the same way, doesn’t mean what you’re doing is any less hurtful to everybody else regardless.” Moomin muttered. “It’s not nice and it’s just plain rude. You owe Snufkin an apology.”

“You’re acting like he wasn’t also being rude to me! My head does _NOT_ look like a beet!” 

“You’re right. I think it’s more like an onion.”

Seconds following that statement, Moomin yelped in great pain as Little My chomped down hard on his shoulder.

“Think you’re real funny, do ya?!”

“Hey! Think about it this way! Onions have layers, and so do you. When I said your head is more like an onion, I don’t mean just that it’s shaped like one! You have more layers under the surface that a lot of people don’t see unless they look for them.” Moomin flailed.

“Are you trying to tell me that was supposed to be a compliment?!” she squawked. “You made that all up! What do you take me for?!”

“Well, of course! Then again, isn’t that how you are around me? Insist that you’re giving me a compliment or that you’re trying to be helpful but you word it together no different than you would when you’re insulting me so I just think you’re insulting me?” Moomin countered. “I agree. It’s very frustrating and confusing!”

He had been expecting an even more sardonic, snappy retort. 

“Is that why you don’t want to talk to me about anything important?” she mumbled, dare he say _sadly_? “Because…well, since you only seem inclined to tell Sniff or Snorkmaiden things in secret! Am I not your friend too?"

“You said it yourself that I can’t keep any from you and you figure them out anyway eavesdropping and sneaking around behind my back, so what’s your point?”

“I only do that because you never come to me about any of your secrets that you aren’t already telling at least one other person too. I’m your friend too, aren’t I? But you don’t tell me secrets and me only!”

Moomin looked at Little My in surprise. He hadn’t anticipated such a question from her, especially with how self assured she always seemed. His expression faltered into a soft frown. "Well of course you are, Little My."

“But not enough of one to trust or to come to for important talks or secrets.” she rebuked acerbically. 

The troll's ear gave a flick, perturbed by the redhead’s hurt. "I _do_ trust you. I just don't have a lot of secrets that you'd relate to, I guess? And of course you're my friend. More specifically, one of my closest and best friends. You don’t really think you that you aren’t, do you?"

The mymble girl crossed her arms and looked away. “Not as good or close a friend as I thought.”

Moomin gave a small sigh. "I guess it's just hard when you're so quick to tease me about things, but that doesn't mean you're any less my friend."

Little My pulled a face. “So if I wasn’t like this, you’d trust me more with those sorts of things like you do with Sniff and Snorkmaiden?”

Moomin frowned, feeling bad about admitting what he was about to say. "I suppose? It'd certainly make it easier knowing I wouldn't have to worry about you judging me or anything. Or at least, when you’re doing it to my face. And I know you can be nice, it’s just…"

“Just what?” she pressed.

“It’s like I said, you’ve got layers like an onion. The one with your niceness is just one of the innermost ones that a lot of people don’t immediately see or really see often since you don’t display it openly like your outermost tough and fierce layers.” Moomin explained.

Little My kept her body faced away, but hazardly glanced up to meet his eyes. "Well onions are built that way for a reason, don't you suppose? But I'm sorry I make you feel that way," she kicked at the floor a bit. "I don't _mean_ to, you know? Not all the time."

"Of course I know that," he assured, flashing her a small smile. "Hearing you apologize for anything is a rarer phenomenon than a blue moon." 

Little My huffed but didn’t rise to the bait of his teasing. “Yeah, yeah, but back to more important things. Are you ever gonna tell him?” 

Moomin’s brow scrunched up. “Tell ‘him’ what? Tell who?” 

“Don’t be s–“ she stopped herself short. “You know what I mean!”

“I can assure you, I do not. Hence, why I’m asking.” Moomin tried again, maintaining his feigned confusion. 

Little My gave a long-suffering groan. “Good grief, are you ever gonna tell Snufkin you’re head over tail in love with him!”

Moomin froze up, having hoped they'd finally moved past that topic. “I thought you were going to try being nicer after that whole talk we had about it!”

“I’m not trying to be mean here! I’m just asking an honest question, honest!” Little My insisted with no bite.

“You’ve got the wrong idea, it’s not like that!” Moomin insisted, defensive. "There's nothing more to tell. Freeing him from the Giant is all there is to it."

Little My did not fire back with any snappy remark or her own insistences. Or anything snappy at all. She did not even raise her voice as she responded with a simple question, no snark or sarcasm attached:

“Are you _sure_ about that?”

Stunned into silence, Moomin paused to fully consider it.

Sure, he _liked_ Snufkin. He was wonderful to talk to, and just wonderful in general. Moomin was thrilled at the prospect of becoming closer friends with the other mumrik boy once he fulfilled his promise to him. It was a lovely thought, the two of them spending their days together, being a part of each other’s lives. No different than how he would with his parents or his friends, of course. 

He wanted to hear the rest of Snufkin’s stories, and go on new adventures with him to make into new stories to tell. To laugh, smile, play, talk and simply be, by his side. More than anything, he wanted to make Snufkin happy and would do anything to achieve that for Snufkin. 

Okay, so he’s thought a lot about this. And Snufkin. And he liked thinking about Snufkin and how remarkable the boy was, whose beauty had no equal both in the face and in his heart.

…Oh no.

“Shuddup.”

Little My dropped her line of inquiry, but only to exchange it for cackling at Moomin’s expense for his response. Not even snacking on their rations would make her let up.

Fortunately, they arrived at the Treasury and could focus their efforts on their objectives there.

The cornucopia of riches and loot had yet to lose its novelty on Moomin. How they all sparkled and glittered in the light. How the colors of the jewels and fabrics shimmered in the room like rainbows.

He still took great pride in masking his true excitement to greater success than Little My did.

“Wow! Look at it all!” she delighted, scooping up a handful of coins and tossing them up in the air. “There’s enough loot fit for ten kings in here!”

“No doubt.” Moomin agreed. “It’s really impressive.”

“Best treasure find on any adventure ever! I’m surprised you ever got Sniff to leave this place.” 

“If it didn’t reside in the home of a Giant, I certainly wouldn’t have.” Moomin said. “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t easier because of it.”

LittleMy turned up her nose haughtily. “That Fraidy Cat! I wouldn’t let anything stop me from getting what I want. Not even a Giant! I still can’t believe you picked him over me!”

“Sniff has a sharper eye for picking out treasures he knows are more valuable and could be traded for more in bartering exchanges in outside towns.” Moomin explained plainly. “Besides, you’re here now, aren’t you?” 

“Still!” Little My insisted. “Of the four of us, we’re the only ones who really want and enjoy having glory attached to our names for having adventurous feats under our belts! And even knowing that, you still chose Sniff first!”

“You already have so much glory to your name. He needs his chance to be center stage too, sometimes.” Moomin attempted to placate.

“Oh sure! That’s a dandy idea! Give the wimpy lying braggart more hot air to go to his head!” Little My returned snidely.

“I said ‘sometimes’, not often,” Moomin sighed. “but you’re right. We really should talk to him about not overdoing it with the embellishments.”

He’d been too preoccupied at the time with other things on his mind when Sniff’s revised recountings of their venture started to fully address it, but the more he thought about it, the more Moomin was put out by the younger’s insulting falsified retellings and vainglorious attitude about it. Having Little My take matters into her own hands to cut him down a peg didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Okay, so where’s this Hat and Goose?” Little My redirected, looking about the room for either of the two things they were in search of. 

“I know where the Hat is, so I’ll go get it.” Moomin said. “I’ll be right back.”

“And just why can’t I go with you?”

“Because I need you to stay here and find the Golden Goose’s nest. Unless you want me to find that first too?” Moomin replies, holding back a smile as she took the bait. 

“No you won’t! Where are you, nest? I’m finding you first!” she declared as she ran around, looking towards the rafters. 

Moomin headed towards the artifact side of the room, pleased with himself. He could get the Hat without Little My distracting him, get the easy retrieval done and out of the way while Little My located the Goose’s nest and got her bragging rights of being the one who found the Giant’s most valuable possession first. Everyone won this way.

Finding the Hat amongst the artifacts collection was simple enough the second time. Unlike the first time, the Hat was higher up and further from reach atop a taller pedestal. With a careful prepping with his climbing rope and timing though, Moomin lassoed the Hat off its pedestal and into his paws without disturbing anything else in the immediate area. 

“Eureka! That’s one down!” he cheered, tossing and rolling the Hat along his arms in victory as he bounded his way back to Little My.

She looked at it unimpressed. “That’s the Hobgoblin’s Hat? That’s it? Doesn’t look any different than Moominpappa’s.”

“It make look ordinary on the outside, but I can assure you that there's much more to it than meets the eye.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it!” Little My challenged. 

“Watch closely then.” he said, motioning her to be quiet as he took out his snack scraps and dropping them into the Hat. Little My sucked on her lower lip and crossed her arms as puffy pink clouds emerged from it.

“So it makes clouds, big deal. I found something even better!” 

Moomin lit up. “The nest?” 

“You bet! Told you I’d find it first!” the redhead boasted, earning a playful eye roll from the troll. 

“That’s wonderful! Now we can start making our way up there!” 

“And just how are we going to do that?” she demanded.

“Like this!” 

With that, Moomin hopped onto the cloud and rode it higher into the air, showing off to Little My. Circling above her, he hid his grin behind his paw at how the little mymble was forcing the surprise off her face behind a pout.

“Don’t be rude! Give me the Hat so I can feed it my scraps and get my own!” she yelled at Moomin, jumping up and down in vain to reach him. 

Moomin laughed but flew his cloud close enough to hand off the Hat to her. Once Little My created her own flying cloud, she hoisted herself onto it and challenged Moomin to catch her. Moomin eagerly sped after her, giving chase around the room in the air.

“Little My, we need to land soon.” Moomin informed minutes later. “The clouds don’t last forever, so we need to land where the Golden Goose is! Can you lead the way?”

"Of course I can! Come on!" Little My said, directing the cloud down into the rafters, Moomin trailing close behind. True to Moomin’s words, the clouds lost their shape and dissipated. Moomin glanced around to be sure that both their feet were firmly on the ground before taking in the sight before him.

The large eyrie-structured nest was much larger than expected, and far more pungent with the combined scents of dry grasses, lichens, mosses, large twigs, leaves, and tufts of down which made up its composition. Snug inside it, the Golden Goose herself slumbered, roosted with her head tucked into her wings. Moomin stared awed at the large bird’s plume, layered with pristine white and titular golden sheened feathers. A misstep by the two on a weaker sprig woke the creature, craning its neck up fully upright to look down at the smaller pair quizzically. Focusing her sharp eyes, she tried to determine if she had been disturbed by a pair of bug, or maybe a couple of rats.

“H-Hi there?” Moomin squeaked out with a small wave.

The goose raised her broad wings as she gave a shrill honk. She rose from her nest, and lunged forward to snap her beak at the small strangers. 

Most would flee or at least remain steadfastly on the defensive when encountered with a potential danger much larger than themselves.

Little My was not most others.

When it came to such encounters for her, she only saw a challenge and there was no approach but the offensive approach.

“Oh so _that’s_ how it’s gonna be, huh? Well there’s no way you’re besting Little My and her Bite of Fury! Have at it!!”

“Little My, wait!” 

With a fearsome battle cry, Little My charged and leapt at the goose. 

She landed on the base of the aserine’s long neck, causing the Golden Goose to flail about and loudly honk endlessly. In spite of the goose’s wild movements and attempts to buck the mymble girl off, Little My’s grip held as she climbed her way up the goose’s neck, using her small size to her advantage to dodge every attempt the goose made to bite her. Strangely enough though, her infamous ‘Bite of Fury’ was used sparingly during the excursion when the goose made snaps a little too close to Moomin.

While Little My was on the offensive, Moomin busied himself sidestepping the Golden Goose’s clawed-toe webbed feet and keeping himself out of the way _and_ out of biting range.

The rest of his energy was put into praying to all higher powers that may exist that the Giant was in no vicinity to overhear the great racket echoing in the cobblestone of the Keep from the all-out brawl between Little My and the Golden Goose. 

No wonder Snufkin was so urgent that they do this immediately.

What had he been thinking earlier?! The mere idea of attempting this with Giant sleeping only a few rooms away made gooseflesh erupt under his fur.

Little My soon reached the top of the Golden Goose’s head and clasped herself around the bird’s beak, muffling the continuing honks. The goose trying to shake her off, but Little My’s grip would not give. She held the beak shut and stared wordlessly at the large avian with her beady green eyes.

She heard Moomin calling out to her, but wasn’t listening to anything he was saying. Her focus was only in her eyes staring back into those of the Golden Goose, unwavering and unrelenting as her grip.

The Golden Goose stared back and kept fighting, but gradually started to settle down.

“If you’re about done with all that fuss, maybe we’ll actually get somewhere.” 

The goose said nothing in reply, but calmed down completely and settled back down in her nest. 

“Alright then. So you’re the Golden Goose I’ve been hearing about. You’re an awful lot bigger than I thought you’d be, and even stronger too.” Little My commented. “I’ve taken down tons of folk who are real big and think they’re tough. Not only do you have real toughness to match, you actually gave me a challenge for once. I’m impressed.”

The goose gave a small hiss through her clamped beak, still uncertain about the tiny creature before her.

“Easy now, I don’t want to fight. Well, I don’t want to fight _you_. Not unless you want to, but I don’t think you do right now, do you?” Little My said, conciliatory. “Didn’t think so. Sorry if I was rough with you before, but I couldn’t let you hurt my friend.”

As Little My let go of her beak, the goose gave a sad honk, lifting a large wing to show spots of missing missing feather patches and scanned over wounds. 

“So you’ve had your fair share of tough scraps too. Did the Giant do that?” the little mymble observed, uncharacteristically soothing.

The goose looked into Little My's eyes with a solemn honk before defensively wrapping a wing around the small clutch of eggs she had already laid that day.

Forcing her angry disgust down, Little My continued her comforts with her voice kept calm and gentle. “You shouldn’t stay here where you’re treated right and where you aren’t happy. My friend and I can take you away to someplace better if you want. Would you like that?” 

The large bird blinked and honked, sounding a bit more spirited at the idea.

"I thought you would. In fact, let's make our getaway before he comes back, shall we?"

The goose gave a nod and rose once more from her nest, ready to follow the mymble girl's direction. She then proceeded to lean down to nuzzle her great head against the little Mymble girl, careful not to crush her.

“Want to be pals too, do ya? Well, a proven worthy opponent is always welcomed as a friend of Little My.” the redhead grinned. “Now if you don’t mind me saying, I think you should have a proper name if you don’t already have one. Would you like one? What do you think of Goldifira? ‘Goldie’ for short.”

The goose honked and gently flapped it's great wings in excitement.

“Then it’s all yours! Welcome to the team, Goldie!” beamed Little My.

Moomin watched the scene before him slack-jawed, silent with awe.

“Little My…that was amazing!” was the first thing he sputtered out that was coherent after Little My made her way back over to him some time later.

“Of course I was! You were expecting any different?”

Moomin shook his head. “No but, I wasn’t expecting you to handle it like that. You did it really well, and…it was just amazing!” 

“Thanks... I wasn't really expecting to get so mushy with a great goose.” Little My admitted, shuffling in her boots. “It, um, wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. And better yet, it didn’t make me feel less tough or fierce at all!”

“Of course it wouldn’t! And it’d be impossible for anything to make you any less tough or fierce! For you to be even more so? No doubt, but never less!” Moomin assured. “But now that you’ve experienced how nice it is to really be nice, will we get to see more of that from now on?”

Little My promptly stuck out her tongue. “Bleugh! No! No way am I gonna be mushy like that all the time! It took me years to build up my fearless reputation, and I’m not going to exchange it for being seen as a softie! But…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do more of that. But _only_ when I really have to!”

“Whatever you say,” Moomin laughed, jumping and spinning around with delight. “We’ve acquired the Hobgoblin’s Hat and you not only bested the great Golden Goose, now dubbed as Goldifira, but befriended her where no one else has been brave enough to do before!”

In true fashion and spirit of his father back in his youth, Moomin found a higher perch to stand on to finish delivering his grand oration in the manner of a proper heroic adventurer. “And soon, we’ll complete the deal, Moominvalley’s days as a dried-up wasteland will be no more, as will Snufkin’s as the Giant’s prisoner be over forever too, and our names will be lauded for ages to come in the stories they tell their progeny of our grand adventures! Come, my fearless compeer! For now, let us rejoice in all our accomplished victories thus far!”

That was all it took for the smaller girl to start laughing and cheering along with him, dancing in circles happy as can be from their latest triumph. Even the Golden Goose herself joined in with happy honks and exuberant flappings of her wings. 

Alas, their celebration was forced to an end when there was a sound of thunder.

The thunderous echo of a large door slamming open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment from readers make authors souls rejoice and freer


	12. The Gamblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s back!
> 
> Jir’s back!
> 
> Enjoy!

Moomin and Little My froze wide-eyed as the thundering door slam resounded through the Keep.

The Giant had returned.

Little My turned to Moomin. “Is that–?”

“It is.” he trembled. “Hide!”

Goldie ushered them to take cover under the edgings of her nest, lightly piling lichens and leaves on top of them to further obscure them from sight. The two quietly thanked her before covering their mouths and noses in their paws to hide their breathing.

The Giant made his way into the room. Unsuspecting of the tiny intruders, he made his way right to Goldie’s nest. 

“There’s my pretty golden birdy. Have you got some eggs for me today?”  
  
Goldie honked and moved defensively over her nest, drawing her wings close.  
  
The Giant’s mood quickly turned sour. “Now how many times do you have to go over this before you get it in your head, you ungrateful fowl!” 

The Giant brought one awful hand to pull Goldie’s wing away and the other down to reach for the golden eggs below her.  
  
Goldie honked in distress, flapping her free wing feebly not only as she feared for her eggs, but also for her tiny new friends hidden nearby. 

“Quit your noise, you crazy bird!” the Giant shouted, jerking the goose’s wing before grabbing her eggs, the distraction of Goldie’s wails keeping him from investigating further. 

With the treasures now in hand, the Giant freed Goldie’s wing and made his way out of the room to prepare for bed.

The tiny adventurers finally released the breaths they were holding. They counted five steps from the Giant after the Treasury door slammed shut. 

“That. Was _close_.” Moomin exhaled shakily.

“He’s gone. Now let’s scram!” Little My whispered, on her feet and pulling at his arm in a futile attempt to drag him along behind her.

“Not yet!” Moomin whispered back, stopping her and pulling her back to the ground. “We leave when the Giant is asleep, like Snufkin said.”

“Why bother waiting? He’s already out of the room, what difference does it make if he’s asleep or not!?” she protested.

“But if Goldie _does_ make any noise by mistake and it alerts the Giant, I’d rather it happen from it waking him up and him having to run all the way back here from his room than while he’s still so close to the Treasury and wide awake. Even if it’s not much, I’ll take any extra amount of time it’ll buy is to escape should it happen. However, the Giant still doesn’t know we’ve intruded in his home or even noticed a piece of his hoard has been stolen from yet, and I’d like to keep having the element of surprise on my side if at all possible.” Moomin delineated calmly.

Little My thought it over before reluctantly conceding that Moomin’s reasoning made sense. “Fine, but how are we supposed to know when he’s asleep when we’re in a completely different room?!”

Her answer came about as distant harmonica playing began sounding through the Keep, Moomin pointing to the air above him like the cat that’s got the cream.

As the music carried on, Moomin listened serenely with his head in his paws, swaying slightly with the slow rhythm. Little My rolled her eyes and scoffed at the troll’s dreamy expression, but made no further comment as she quietly occupied herself with the loose strings in her dress, tuning in to the song as well. For a snarky jerk, that Snufkin’s playing _was_ rather nice on the ears, she had to admit. 

Side eyeing her friend, thoroughly charmed by the music and (she was certain) by its performer, Little My gave a silent retch. His mushy pining was nauseating.

After what felt like forever or over far too soon (depending on who you asked), the music concluded and silence returned to the halls of the Keep.

“Okay, that’s our cue to _go now_!” Little My hissed.

“Not just yet.” Moomin halted her again.

“What is it _now_!”

Moomin held his paws out placatingly. “It’s just for a little bit longer! I just need to go see Snufkin–”

“Are you serious!? No, you dummy! You said we leave after the song when the Giant’s asleep! Like _Snufkin_ said! You don’t get to go changing the rules on a whim whenever it suits you!” Little My spat, not mincing her words.

“It’s nothing like that! It’s really important!”

“As _if_!”

“It’s just to pass on a message! Nothing more. A-And I’m going to be quick about it!” Moomin persisted.

“Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes! I know you! In fact, I know you better than you know yourself! You’ll get up to that silver-tongued mumrik and go all gooey, stand around in a daze long enough to get yourself caught anyhow! What part of that is ‘being careful’?” 

“I won’t complain about you taking extra treasure from the piles that you swiped when you thought I wasn’t paying attention.” Moomin bargained. “Or anything else you choose to take while I’m not looking that you know I’d disapprove of you doing and wait for me outside the Keep.”

Little My blinked. “How–”

“Simple. I know you really well, too, though I suppose not better than yourself.” Moomin shrugged. “All I’m going to ask is that you don’t be overzealous about it, since we’re already going to cause a bigger stir with taking the Golden Goose. If you have to be daring, please try to only take what would be ‘slightly noticeably’ missing instead of the ‘glaringly noticeably’ missing. Not that you’re likely to listen to me anyways, but I can still hope on the off chance that you actually might.”

“…You’re _learning_! Good on you!” Little My praised genuinely after a pause. With a heavy sigh, she ultimately relented. “Alright. I’ll be careful, but you have to promise that you will too!

“I will.”

“And don’t lolligag! Say what’s most important, then hightail it out of there! You’re risking a lot more trouble than I am with what you’re about to do! I should be annoyed about you trying to outdo me, or egging you on in doing something so bold and dangerous, but…just don’t be stupid about it, okay?!” she added.

Although thankful, Moomin was still most surprised by the scrappy mymble girl’s yield.

“Awwww, My! You really _are_ making an effort to be nicer! I could actually tell you care this time!” Moomin commented sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah, but if you speak a word of this to anyone, you’re losing a finger.” she forewarned with her usual fire. “And I’m serious! Don’t get so lost in Snufkin’s eyes that you forget to leave!”

Moomin opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing clever came to mind for him to say fast enough.

So with haste, he crafted a new flying pink cloud and sailed off, hoping he had gotten away before Little My could see the latest deep shade of red blooming across his face.

* * *

Once finished with his nightly performance, Snufkin reclined against the side of the jar with a sigh, sliding down against it until he was seated at the bottom base of his glassware cage. The Giant had fallen asleep to his music as easily as he always did, but waiting for the Giant to climb into bed had been the most vexing the task had ever been to date. It took extensive tongue holding and cheek biting to not make any attempt to urge the Giant into bed faster, and even more strain not to fumble over himself when the Giant pried for reports of any new intruders.

He remembered the anxiety and fear of trying to keep up a facade of ignorance and his relief when the Giant was finally satisfied. 

Lying to his captor wasn’t anything new. 

It shouldn’t have been so hard, so why was it now?

Because of course it was.

And he knew exactly why.

His usual lies had been small ones, inoffensive ones that would merely end an unpleasant conversation sooner. None like this that would well and truly get him into trouble, like his past major defiances.

Most of all, the fact that Moomin was not the first to trespass in the Giant’s Keep, but was the only one he didn’t dupe into meeting certain doom at the Giant’s hands.

Because there was a reason the Giant’s favorite epithet for him was ‘canary’.

-o00o-

 _Snufkin remembered he had been sitting in his jar as he had every day in captivity. Not that there was much else for him_ to _do in his situation that he hadn’t already tried. The sights and experiences of each day faded into each other unchanging. Had it been three weeks? Perhaps a month since he was stolen away? The fact that Snufkin could not say for sure troubled him greatly, and his unchanging scenery served to further erode at his sanity. The one advantage to being stuck with the same sights day in and day out was it allowed him to develop a keen familiarity to the whole ambience of the Giant’s Keep. So much so, he could detect any and all disturbances that occurred within. As such, any outliers he would pick up greatly held his interest._

_He remembered hearing a peculiar sound that day and pulling out his harmonica, his one solace, and playing it. If it wasn’t just a large errant mouse, than the sound would almost certainly alert whoever was there to him and draw them in, as it had before._

_Just as expected, he soon found himself looking upon a person of his size, although only relatively due to Snufkin’s young stature._

_The individual was clearly perplexed by the young boy that was trapped in the jar, but in a way similar to how one viewed an oddity such as a horse in a parlor. Snufkin tucked his harmonica away._

_“What brings you to the Giant’s Keep?” he asked placidly._

_“I heard there was some grand treasure up here.” they replied, blasé. “You wouldn’t happen to know where it would be, do you kid?”_

_Snufkin suppressed a small sigh. The treasure, of course, it’s what anyone who ever dared to make it here would want after all. He had seen it once before, a stranger who wanted to bring back the riches from the keep. He remembered greeting them much like this and he remembered the similar line of questioning for his direction._

_“Well of course, I’ve seen the Giant go in there many times.” he confirmed._

_The man looked at him expectantly and Snufkin just gave a small smile._

_“If I tell you, do you think you could help me get free from here?”_

_The man contemplated the jar for a moment before looking back to Snufkin and he nodded._

_“Of course.”  
_   
_Snufkin didn’t trust this man at all, he had been promised this once before only to be left trapped here for weeks without seeing the first stranger again. He had been naive and ignored his Caveats the last time; he couldn’t let himself fall for that false promise again..._

_“It’s just down the hall, the third door on your left,” he explained, pointing in the direction the stranger should go._

_The man nodded and turned to leave. “I’ll come back for you when I’m sure things are safe.”_

_Snufkin watched him go, refusing to let himself hope for anything but disappointment._

_Snufkin was very surprised indeed when the man returned. He made his way to the edge of the jar to look out at him but was also keenly aware of the sound of the Giant somewhere nearby, seemingly unaware of their unwelcome guest._

_“Where’s a good place I can hide??” the man whispered urgently._

_Snufkin looked out towards where the Giant could be heard and then back to the man._

_“If you can get behind something solid, I’ll convince him to nap. He very much likes my music, and then once he’s dozed off you can free me.”_

_The man gave a nod and went to hide, Snufkin stood and waited for the giant to enter the room._

_“Who were you talking to, boy?” The giant asked, staring down at him._

_“Nobody but myself,” Snufkin said and pulled out his harmonica. “Would you like for me to play for you?”_

_“Of course, a good thing my little bird is learning his place!” the Giant settled down to take his nap and Snufkin played soft tones that put him to rest. Snufkin continued his playing but looked around for the man. He caught him slipping out from his hiding spot and running back down the treasure room hall._

_Snufkin watched him go and eventually return laden with treasure. The man met his eyes as he kept playing but made no move to stop running for the door, confirming what he already knew. Snufkin’s grip on his harmonica tightened as he felt a bitter ache settle in his heart. The man’s return had given him hope again but once more he had just been played._

_Snufkin’s tail lashed behind him and his eyes darkened as he started after the sneaking man. With a sudden deep breath he let out a sharp, sour note into the harmonica that not only caught the man off guard but startled the Giant right awake._

_The Giant looked towards Snufkin’s jar and caught sight of the pile of loot being held beyond him. The Giant rose up, towering like a mountain and grabbed the sleaze before he had any hope to flee. Treasure spilled onto the floor and Snufkin pulled the brim of his hat down over his sullen eyes as the Giant put an end to the man right then and there._

_Snufkin lifted his hat, watching as the giant settled back and took it as a cue to keep playing._   
_  
It didn’t end with that one, more would come from down below to steal and lie to him about helping. Each time it happened made it easier for Snufkin to play that sour note and alert his captor of the thieves.  
  
It seemed that the Giant was pleased with his actions. Thereafter, he started putting Snufkin’s jar in new places or wasn’t quite so quick to rattle him when he was mouthy as a sort of sick reward. _

_Moreover though, the Giant used it as a reminder for Snufkin, however, that those down below didn’t care for him.  
_

_That it would be better if he stayed in the Keep as the Giant’s little songbird._

-o00o-

He regretted none of it, what he did to those no-goods. He never would.

They weren’t innocents, but thieves and blackened spoilt souls out for their own gain. The sort of louts who slandered the good name of adventuring. It was for the better that their taint was removed from the world anyways, or perhaps that’s just what Snufkin had only been telling himself to ease the bitterness in his heart.

What _did_ weigh on his conscience was the dread of how Moomin would look at him should he ever find out about how deep the blood on his paws ran. Would he still be willing to listen and let him explain the full story, or would he not want to understand at all? Snufkin trembled at the thought.

What if it repulsed Moomin enough to recant his promise? That he’d decide to abandon him after all and scathe him on how he deserved to stay locked up forever to rot if Moomin knew of what he had done.

It was at that moment that Moomin floated into the room on his cloud, the Hobgoblin’s hat with him.

“Snufkin!”

The young mumrik snapped out of his reminiscing with a start and turned around. Where he saw Moomin, riding on a pink cloud and lightly tapping the glass of the jar as he descended onto the nightstand.

Snufkin blinked a few times to determine if he was only seeing things, pinching his arm as well for good measure. The pain was sharp, and Moomin knocked quietly on the glass again instead of disappearing from his sight when Snufkin rubbed at his eyes.

He had many questions running through his mind about this, including and not limited to why there was an odd blooming of joy in his chest from seeing Moomin, despite such a feeling being grossly displaced with the severity of what was happening. Thankfully, rightful fear and unease kicked in just in time for him to find his words, because _Moomin was not supposed to be here!_

“Moomin! You can’t be here!” he whisper-yelled. “What are y–!”

“Tomorrow.”

Against his better judgment, Snufkin changed his line inquiry. “What?”

“Little My and I have the Hat and the Golden Goose. The exchange with the Hobgoblin will happen first thing at dawn. If not by that following afternoon, it will be overmorrow at latest that I will return to finish my quest.” Moomin elaborated. “I’m going to set you free.”

Snufkin could barely contain the rush of feelings that brimmed from him. It felt like a swirling of disbelief and overwhelming joy, but it was all at once tempered by the lingering fear of deception and despair. 

And yet his Caveats were silent. Nothing of what Moomin said was a lie in neither his words or intentions. He wondered why he was so hesitant after all Moomin had accomplished, though in the end he knew exactly why...

“As incredible as that is, let alone to actually hear, why–? Surely you realize what a gamble it is being here right now!” Snufkin breathed, eying the sleeping Giant beside them.

“You didn’t have any way of knowing if Sniff and I got out okay last time or when exactly I would come back. I couldn’t say then as I didn’t know either, but I do this time. And it’s only right that you know as well so you’re not worrying yourself sick wondering when I’m coming back.” Moomin stumbled over his words to explain, pressing two fingers together.

Snufkin felt his ears burn. So Moomin _had_ noticed how shaken he had been seeing the troll again from how long it took for him to return. Which frankly, hadn’t been very long at all, yet he still had gotten so worked up over it. 

“Of course I know how risky this was, how risky this entire rescue ploy will be as a whole. But if I’m being truly honest…I don’t care that it is.” Moomin chattered on, staring off as he rested his hands parallel to Snufkin’s against the glass. “You’re worth every gamble.”

Snufkin’s face heated up and the fur of his tail prickled. As ridiculous as he felt, it took a moment to process that his mouth was agape until Moomin himself began to flounder.

“Uhhh! That is, um, it’s always worth taking a risk in the name of a noble cause!” Moomin attempted to backpedal, who was also rapidly reddening in the face himself. “Like providing for my struggling home or helping someone in need! Yeah! That makes sense! Cause…you know? Am I still talking? Why am I still talking? I should probably stop now…oh no, oh _goodness…_!”

Snufkin’s soft laughter rang in Moomin’s ears as he gave a warm smile.  
  
It was a small relief it seemed he wasn’t alone in the awkwardness of this conversation at least. 

“What a splendid moomintroll you are.” he found himself saying fondly. 

Moomin stood there captivated for what felt like hours. Seeing Snufkin smile was more priceless than the entirety of the Giant’s Treasury put together, and three times as stunning. 

In reality the moment ended all too soon as a booming sound nearly startled the pair out of their fur. It was only a pause that they both realized it was merely the Giant mumbling in his sleep.

“I believe that’s as good a sign as any that all this is getting riskier by the second,” Snufkin admitted with a small sigh.  
  
Moomin gave a nod in return, feeling the pang of his heart at the idea of leaving Snufkin alone.  
  
“Tomorrow.” he repeated and gave Snufkin a reassuring smile.  
  
The mumrik nodded. “Tomorrow.”  
  
With that, Moomin retreated on his cloud, floating away to return to Little My. Snufkin stared after him until he was out of sight before returning to the floor of the jar. 

Some time passed before Snufkin found himself pulling out his deck, giving it a quick shuffle and laying out a three card spread. 

_The King of Cups_

Snufkin could read plenty of things into this. A kind and purely motivated advisor to help him through a dark time certainly could be speaking of Moomin, but he recalled too the earlier prediction of a mended relationship. The King of Cups stood for a father too, and the fish abundant in its imagery certainly reminded Snufkin of his dear dad…

Snufkin considered this a moment longer before flipping over the second card. 

_The Queen of Wands_

In the present position it indicated a loving friend who would give helpful advice. Snufkin smiled fondly, though with so many cards indicating the present success, the future card held so much more intrigue. 

He reached to flip over the final card. 

_The Two of Cups_

Snufkin stared in bewilderment at the union card before him and felt his face heat up slightly. With the Ten of Cups _and_ the Two of Cups now, was he really so fated?  
  
Regardless of their meaning, Snufkin felt better. Two spreads in a row promised him a hopeful outcome, and if anyone could do it, he felt confident now that it was Moomin.  
  
Snufkin settled in the jar and curled up to sleep for the night, his thoughts light and hopeful as he turned over to get comfortable.

He didn’t notice that one additional card slipped from his deck and out of his pocket. Right before landing, it flipped over to reveal its face side up.

_The Seven of Swords_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment!


	13. The Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :|
> 
> And we oop

Snufkin awoke with a start, his tail raised in alarm as he heard the Giant shouting up a storm from down the hall. He scrambled to sit up and noticed the card sitting beside him.  
  
The Seven of Swords, to be exact. A card that denoted necessary caution and even trickery necessary for future affairs.  
  
Snufkin carefully picked the card to place it back in his deck, tucking it away before the giant lumbered into the room. 

“My Goose is gone! And some of my treasure’s missing too!” he roared, stomping around the room in frustration. 

“A right shame.”

“That Goose was like nothing else! How it even got its way out of here, I don’t know!”

“How quaint. Now you know how us smallfolk feel when you steal our things.”

The Giant shot Snufkin a harsh glare. “Watch that lip, boy, before I toss you where I don’t have to hear you.” 

“So rude of me. I just figured you’d prefer somebody to talk to other than the walls,” Snufkin said, rising from where he had sat at the bottom of the jar, not noting Moomin’s shell had been left out under him. 

“What’s _that_?”

Snufkin felt his blood freeze over.

“It’s nothing!” he insisted, desperate his captor hadn’t truly seen.

Alas, Fate was rarely so kind.

Snufkin realized with horror that this might have been just what the Seven of Swords was warning of: an obstacle requiring caution and trickery that he had seemingly just failed to work against...

“I’m not blind, boy. Where’d you get that?” the Giant growled.  
  
“Nowhere, I’ve always had this with me,” Snufkin replied, trying to regain his composure and pass off the lie. 

“Someone was here in my home. They stole from me.” The Giant’s gaze turned somehow harsher. “And you aided them.”

Snufkin grabbed at his tail to keep it from succumbing to an anxious flick.  
  
The Giant stomped over and took Snufkin’s jar in his hands before shaking it around, sending the poor Mumrik boy crashing against the walls and back. 

“There were trespassers in my house! Thieves! And you didn’t inform me?!”

“There wasn’t any!” Snufkin cried out.

“Don’t try to trick me! You’ve always told me of any lurking thieves that slipped under my nose! You expect me to believe that Goose escaped without you seeing anything?? What did the rat do to make you be so stupid?”

“Because for once, this one wasn’t a liar who deserved it!” Snufkin said defensively.

“I thought you finally realized there’s no such thing?” the Giant hissed.

“He’s not like the others! He’s different! Moomin is kind, caring and truly brave! He’d never hurt me! He promised! Moomin wouldn’t betray me! He’s coming back for me and I’ll finally be free of this wretched prison!” Snufkin’s eyes were squeezed shut, his paws balled into fists in a blind passion.

“His name is ‘Moomin’, then?” 

Snufkin’s paws flew to his mouth in horror. What a fool he’d been.

What had he done!?

The Giant couldn’t help but give an ugly laugh. “Seems those loose lips of yours finally did something right.”  
  
He set Snufkin’s jar back in its spot, allowing the sore and dizzy boy a moment’s rest before the Giant addressed him again. 

“If this rat wants to play knight, why don’t we test his worth?” The Giant said with a nasty smirk. “To rescue a damsel as yourself, he should have to actually fight for it, don’t you think?” 

With a wave of the Giant’s fingers, he cast a spell, the effects of which weren’t apparent to Snufkin until he tried to speak.

“Ah ah ah. There will be no singing out of turn from you this time, little canary. It wouldn’t be a fair fight if you helped the rat again, now would it?”

No! No! NO!

Snufkin tried to scream and shout, even though he knew it was futile. Magic spells, much like enchanted prison cages, could not be broken free from by normal means. He banged his paws against the glass but the spell blocked that sound too.

No! _NO!_

Being trapped in the Giant’s Keep, inside this cursed jar like some trophy. Every day that passed inside the glass was suffocating. Worse still were those torturous punishments which deprived him of light and sounds to focus on, but never before was it like this.

It was too much. _Far_ too much.

Snufkin tried to level his breathing, a task which became all the more difficult as the light vanished with the Giant burying the jar somewhere underneath the centermost gold pile in the Treasury.

Snufkin felt tears stinging his eyes as the panic set in worse. He hoped desperately, praying to the stars and the forces of the universe for Moomin to find him under here even without a voice. 

But he couldn’t be so selfish to long for that.

Because if he did, Moomin would be killed.

And it’d be all his fault.

With nothing left to do, Snufkin curled up and cried harder. He cried for his wretched weakness and selfish wants, mourning the loss of his dashed hopes, his foolishness for not heeding the cards warning, and the inevitable loss of dear Moomin should he return. If he was wasting away before, perhaps this stress and grief would finally do him in. He miserably sobbed, his tail curling close and hugging himself tighter, wishing mournfully it was the safe embrace of his father or Moomin instead. 

Snufkin’s cries would be answered by nothing, for no one could hear him or see the tears on his face from where he was hidden.

Even if Moomin somehow made it, it would be a wonder if he was ever found in time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a Comment
> 
> :3

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo! Second Moomin Story!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to drop a comment!


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